Skyrim Allegience
by Dark Brother 16
Summary: Welcome to the land of Skyrim. It is a land of hidden evil and unexpected heores, of friends and enemies, of light and darkness. Two years after the legendary Dragonborn defeated Alduin, the Civil War in Skyrim continues to rage on, while an old enemy watches in triumph, waiting to strike again. Heroes must rise to the challenge, but can they overcome thier differences?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Innocents Lost

The powdery snow chilled Max's bones. If only he had some warm clothes.  
But only the men and women in Skyrim with money in their pockets could have  
warm clothes. This very thought made Max bitter. He'd kill for a coat! No, he  
wouldn't. Max was a man who valued his life above all else. Even if it meant slow  
pain and misery, he would not break the laws that he nevertheless resented. To do  
so would be to die instantly amoungst people who would mock him and his existence.  
But, if he were not caught...

And that was exactly why he was there. He, along with everyone else in skyrim,  
had heard the rumors of a boy who had the audacity to do the unthinkable and perform  
the dreaded Black Sacrament. Max wanted to find that boy and take whatever he planned  
to repay, them, with. He was desperate and so desired not to get caught by the guards,  
who, breaking from the laws of the Empire, could be unpredictable when it came to  
criminal justice.

He approached the gate into Windhelm, a feeling of panic-stricken nausea.  
The Stormcloak guards eyed him with their expressionless helmets.

" You look tired, friend." one of them said kindly. " The Candlehearth Inn has  
beds for rent."

" Th-th-thank you, sir." Max shivered.

" I'm with you, traveler." the other guard stated. " I'd be a lot warmer and a  
lot happier with a belly full of mead."

" You don't even think about sneaking off duty again." his friend snapped. " I  
would have to turn you in, remember?"

Max left them to it. If the guards were busy thinking about mead, then they would  
probably not pay much attention to him. He asked around, hopefully without attracting  
suspicion, and eventually found the Arentino residence. A dunmer woman and a Nord boy  
were talking in front of the door.

" I'll knock on the door and see if he wants to come play." said the boy rebelliously.

" No, wait!" protested the Dunmer woman. " That boy, that house. They're cursed."

" The I'm right aren't I? I knew it! He's trying to have somebody killed."

The Dunmer woman sighed in defeat. " I won't deny it, child. But he is going down  
a dark path, one that is sure to lead him to ruin. Now let's speak of this no more. I am  
the only friend you need." And with that, they left.

This unsettled Max. Was this a sign from the Divines, warning him to turn back?

Max was afraid, again. And this made him angry. He would not be afraid to act forever.  
So he broke the lock and walked in.

The house was dimly lit, long, twisted shadows danced across the walls. The decor  
was simple enough, but occassionally there could be found a piece of fine clothes. Cobwebbs  
riddled the corners and dust layered the shelves. But the most frightenning aspect of that  
"cursed" house was the chanting. From the farthest bawls of the house could be heard a boy's  
voice.

"Die, Grelod, DIE!" he shouted. A slunch rang out, and Max realised that that sound  
was the sound of a dagger being plunged into flesh! Max edged forward, as the boy, Aventus  
Arentino, began chanting, "Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins  
of the unworthy must be baptised in blood and fear." Max soon got a glimpse of the boy, but  
the grisley sight nauseated him.

Surrounded by candles, Aventus knelt beside a rotting corpse, stabbing it as if it  
had wronged him in some unspeakable way. A book titled "A Kiss, Sweet Mother" lay by the corpse,  
as did actual human flesh and a human heart. No sooner had Max registered this nightmarish  
scene then Aventus noticed him. And he was excited.

His face, gaunt with exhaustion, lit up as he said,"You've come at last! My prayers  
have been answered!" Max remained silent as Aventus went on. "It worked! I knew you'd come!  
I just KNEW it! I did the Black Sacrament, over and over. With the body, and the... things.  
And now you've come. An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood."

Max was silent a moment, then said, "Right, yeah, the Black Sacrament." But Aventus  
proceeded as if he had not heard him.

"It took so long. So very long. But now you're here, and you can accept my cobtract."

"Yes, the contract. Right. Tell me about it."

Aventus now took on a countanence of emotion. "My mother, she...She died. I...I'm all  
alone now. So they sent me to that terrible orphanage in Riften. Honorhall." He spat this name  
with as much contempt as he could muster at his age. He continued. "The headmistress there is  
an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind. But she's not kind. She's terrible. To  
all of us." He seemed to lose steam slightly as he continued. "So I ran away, and came home.  
And performed the Black Sacrament. Now you're here. And you can kill Grelod the Kind!"

This was not at all what Max had expected. He had no intention of going all the way to  
Riften, back were he might run into Maven Black-Briar again. Maybe he could ask for the payment  
now.

But Aventus had other plans. "Please be honest, I'm kind of lonely here. I'll  
find something to pay you with, don't you worry."

It appeared that Max had no choice. Why, oh why did he get himself into this? But maybe  
there was a chance that he could do this without getting caught. Maybe he could still earn his  
payment. But as he wandered toward the city gates, he could not see how  
he could. As he exitted Windhelm, he noticed a Kahjit caravan on the other side of the bridge.  
As he edged closer, he caught a tidbit of their arguement.

"I said no, Dro'marash." the leader, a woman, replied sharply. "We will not take sides  
in this war, and we certainly will not go where we are unwanted. It's bad for buissiness."

"But Ahkari, if we were to join up with the winning side, we could make a very large  
profit." Dro'marash replied.

"Oh? And which side might that be?" Ahkari challenged. Max was surprised the Kahjit had  
so much courage to continue arguing with such a forceful personality.

"Well, the Stormcloaks-"

"No, Dro'marash." another armored Kahjit replied calmly. "The Stormcloacks do not trust  
our kind. Our ancestors allied themselves with the Aldmeri Dominion, which may have been the right  
choice at the time, but has caused resentment in the Nord populace. Ulfric Stormcloak has heavilly  
racial tendencies, though his cause is admittably just."

"Thank you, Kharjo." Ahkari replied triumphantly. "Besides, what if we choose the wrong  
side and the winning side persecutes us?"

Dro'marash's whiskers drooped as he admitted, "I hadn't thought of that."

Max chose then to ask them. "Um- excuse me. You there, Kahjit."

They started as they turned toward the man who dared address them. They stared at him,  
waiting for him to continue.

"Uh," He suddenly lost some of his nerve, but pressed on. "I was wondering if you might  
help me."

"Go on." Ahkari responded blankly.

Max took a deep breath then said, "My name is Max. I am broke, and I need to get to Riften.  
So, would you-do you mind if- could you take me there? For- for free?"

Max fully expected them to say no. However, they turned to each other, muttered amongst  
themselves for a moment, then Ahkari turned to him and said kindly, "We have some small kinship  
now, believe it or not. You do not shun us, nor do you treat us as inferior, untrustworthy, or  
sub-human. You may travel with us, but you must tell people in Riften of our wares, in return for  
our survice."

Max thanked them, and helped them pack up and leave however he could. On the journey, he  
got to know the Kahjit rather well. Dro'marash even took it upon himself to teach the meek young  
man how to loose his stutter. Max liked these cats. Maybe he'd keep in touch with them. After...

It didn't take long for them to reach Riften. Max had hoped for more time to get ready, to  
plan the deed. But no, now he had to just man up and do it. He turned to Ahkari. "I'm going in now.  
You can expect me back by nightfall."

"May your endeavors bring you good fortune, friend." she said.

Max approached the gates, but was stopped by an imposing guard.

"Halt. Before I let you into Rifter, you need to pay yhe visitors tax."

This wasn't good. "A visitors tax? What's it for?" Max asked. But the guard was impatient.

"For the priveledge of entering the city. What does it matter?"

Max was about to admit that he had no money, but Kharjo stepped in. "This is obviously a  
shakedown. There is no visitors tax."

This must have been true, because the guard hurriedly shushed him. "Keep your voice down.  
You want everyone to hear you? Fine, go on in, kid."

Max gave Kharjo a thankful nod, then entered the city. Max entered Honorhall, still quite  
unsure that he could get away with this. The guards were currently dealing with a thief in the  
market, but they could still be upon him in an instant. Max gripped the hilt of his dagger, which  
he had stolen from Ahkari. It somehow both gave him renewed strength and resolve and terrified him,  
filling his gut with ice. Then he heard her, the target, Grelod the Kind.

She was addressing the orphans. "Those who shik thier duties will get an extra beating. Do  
I make myself clear?" she stormed.

The miserable children responded as one, "Yes, Grelod."

"And one more thing, I won't hear no more talk of adoptions." she added cruelly. "None of  
you riff-raff is getting adopted, ever. Nobody needs you, nobody wants you. That, my darlings,  
is why you're here, why you will always be here until the day you come of age and get thrown into  
that wide, horrible world. Now, what do you all say?"

In unison, they all replied, "We love you Grelod. Thank you for your kindness." although  
none of them sounded like they really loved her at all.

Grelod grinned evilly. "That's better. Now, scurry off you little gutter-snipes." And so  
they did.

Max hated the woman as much as Aventus obviously did already. He gripped the hilt of his  
dagger, then silently said his prayers to all the Divines and Daedra he could think of, then marched  
up to the old bat.

But she didn't take kindly to that. She glared at him and snapped, "What'aya want? You've  
got no business being in here." When Max remained silent, trying to think of something tough to say,  
she stormed on. "What are you staring at, you worthless piece of gutter trash! I simply must start  
lockin' the doors again. You think you can intimidate me, in my own orphanage?! HA! Not bloody likely."

Max waited until she turned her back to him, then grit his teeth and plunged his dagger deep  
into the old hags back. As Grelod's expression changed to appropriate the shock of what just happenned,  
she did her best to get him caught by screaming "AAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!" as loud as she could. The children  
crowded around and began to cheer, giving Max a sense that this was worth it; that is, until the lady  
who assisted Grelod began to beg for her life.

Max didn't like this. She might call the guards. Maybe they were already headed to the noise.  
Max stared at his hands, the hands of a murderor, then ran.

Outside the city, Ahkari asked him "How went your venture, my friend?"

"Huh?" Max was distracted with unease. "oh, it went very well. But we need to leave, right now."

The Kahjit stared at him questioningly. "Why?" Dro'marash asked.

But Max was in a hurry. "Never mind. Let's just go, right now."

They packed up and left. Max knew he had arroused suspicion from the others, but he didn't really  
care anymore. He just needed to get as far from Riften as possible. About five minutes from Riften, Ahkari  
asked him, "So, Max," This froze Max, he'd been caught, he knew it. "Did you tell the people of Riften of  
our wares?"

Still aware that they suspected him, Max responded,"Oh yeah. I told some Argonians in the Bee and  
Barb." This was a lie of course, but they were not likely to figure that out for a while.

Ahkari smiled. "Good."

Back in Windhelm, Max returned to the Arentio house, and entered. Aventus was waiting for him, eager  
for the results. "Well, Grelod the Kind. Is she.. You know.."  
Max nodded, and Aventus laughed maniacly. "I knew you could do it. I just knew it! I knew the Dark  
Brotherhood would save me." He handed Max a gorgious platter and said, "Here, just like I promised. It should  
fetch you a nice price. And thank you. Thank you again."

Without a word, Max decided to take his leave.

Max made his way to Solitude, were he sold the Arentino platter for one hundred gold, enough to last  
him a little while. He began to leave, confident that nothing could go wrong for now, because nobody in Solitude  
knew anything about Grelod's death yet. But then a courier approached him.

"I've been looking for you. Got something I'm suppost to deliver. He described you very well."

"He?" Max didn't like where this was going. "He who?"

"Dunno. Creapy fella, long, dark cloak. Never saw his face. Anyway, here it is. A letter. Guess that's  
it, better go." And he did.

Max openned the letter and donned a look of horror. It was a note with a black handprint on it, with  
two simple words, "We Know". Someone found out? And they tracked him down? He had to run.

And run he did. He hired a carriage and fled to Whiterun. Once there, he ran into the Drunken Huntsman  
because the Bannered Mare was too popular. He rented a room, and went to sleep. Maybe he shook them.

What he failed to notice was a shadowy Dunmer was watching him the whole time. As he went to sleep, she  
creeped toward his room while noone else was looking.

Max was awakened by the smell of cobwebs and sweat. He immediately noticed that he was no longer in the  
Drunken Huntsman, but in a dank, dilapidated, abandoned shack. He was positioned so that he was facing a shelf.

But Max wished that he wasn't, because the shrouded woman on top of it was watching him.

"Sleep well?" she asked him.

"Wha-whereamI-whoareyou?" Max panicked.

"Does it matter?" she replied coolly. "You're warm, dry, and still very much alive."

Max couldn't take this. "What do you want with me? Please, don't kill me. I didn't want to kill her, I  
just-"

The woman began to laugh. "Oh dear, you must have had a few close shaves with this. Don't worry, I am from  
the Dark Brotherhood, yes. And I know about old Grelod. Half of Skyrim knows. Old crone gets butchered in her own  
orphanage. These things tend to get around. Ah, but don't misunderstand, I'm not criticizing. It was a good kill.  
Why did you do it?"

Max relaxed slightly. "I needed money, and I heard about the Arentino boy. So I decided to take his pay,  
but he wouldn't pay me in advance. So, I-I did the job."

"Well, you may have tried to run from the job, but it seems you may be quite good at it. But there is a  
slight, hmm, problem."

Uh-oh. "A problem?"

The woman went on, still maddeningly calm. "You see, Aventus was looking for the Dark Brotherhood, for me  
and my associates. Grelod the Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill that you stole. A kill  
you must repay."

"You want me to kill someone else? Who?"

The mysterious woman chuckled. "Well now, funny you should ask. If you turn around you'll notice my guests.  
I 'collected' them from.. Well, that's not important. The here and now, that's what matters. You see, there's a  
contract out on one of them, and that person cannot leave this house alive. But.. which one? Go on, see if you can  
figure it out." Max didn't want this. This woman had a dagger out, though. This obviously meant that if he didn't  
obey, he'd be killed. The woman continued. "Am I to take your silence as acceptance? Make your choice, make your  
kill. I just want to watch, and admire."

Max had no choice, it seemed. He surveyed the captives. One was a Nord mercenary, by the looks of him, the  
second was a Nord woman, and the third was a Kahjit. All wore execution hoods. Max had a dreadful suspicion about  
the Kahjit, so he went to speak to him.

But the Kahjit spoke first. "Whoever this is, clearly we've gotten off on the wrong foot. Ah, but no worries,  
this isn't the first time I've been bagged and dragged."

Max recognised him, but he had to be sure. "Who are you?"

The Kahjit's mask shifted, no doubt because he was grinning. "Ah.. Vasha, at your service. Obtainer of goods,  
taker of lives, and defiler of daughters. Have you not heard of me? Perhaps I will have my associates carve my name  
in your corpse as a reminder."

"Oh, I've heard of you." Max replied blackly.

Vasha didn't catch what he just said. "Who is this?"

"Never mind who I am. Would someone pay to have you killed?"

"Me? Ha! Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

"Oh, hehehehehe. The question is, would someone pay to have me killed again. A day goes by when someone doesn't  
try to gut me in the street, I get disappointed."

Max had made his choice. "You have a lot of enemies indeed, Vasha."

Vasha recognised him now. "Max? Hehehehe, I never thought you had it in you. Is this still about your dearly  
departed wife?"

Max flew into a rage and struck Vasha across the face. "Of course this is about her!" he shouted. "You killed  
her! YOU RAPED HER, THEN YOU KILLED HER! And now, I will kill you!" And with that, he cut Vasha's throut with the  
dagger he had stolen from the Kahjit caravan, and which he only just noticed that he still had.

Max turned back to the woman, who applauded. "My, my. How dramatic, how wonderfully heartfelt. So, you've met  
him before, hmm? The caniving Kahjit, killer of the woman you loved most. It's no wonder you chose him."

Max felt better about this kill than he did about Grelod's murder. But he still wished to never do this again.  
"Am I free to go?" He felt drained.

"Of course, here is the key to the shack. But why stop now? I think that you would be perfect for the Dark  
Brotherhood. What do you say?"

This was bad. Max wanted to say no, but her knife was still out, so, "Sure, why not?"

"Good. Now, here's what you need to remember. I am Astrid, leader of the Dark Brotherhood. We are somewhere near  
Morthal. The Sanctuary is near Falkreath, off the road to the west of the town. When the door asks you the question 'what  
is the music of life?' you answer with the phrase, 'silence, my brother', and you're in. I'll see you around." she added  
rougishly.

Max rushed away from the shack as fast as humanly plausable, then stopped and realised he was now in Whiterun's  
Plains District. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to get involved in any of this, and yet here he was, a new  
member of the Dark Brotherhood. All he wanted was some money, not this. But then again, maybe there were some perks to  
being an assassin. Nevertheless, if he was caught, he would be arrested and surely executed.

As he was thinking these thoughts, his gaze drifted to the trees off to his right. A beautiful Redguard woman clad  
in Iron Armor was leaning against a tree staring at him. After his eyes met hers, she grinned and motioned that he should  
follow her. Without really thinking about it, Max followed. She led him deep into the woods, so noone else was around. Then  
she turned to him and crossed her arms, still grinning.

Just then, a man wearing Whiterun Guard armor stepped out of the trees. He was a handsome Nord, only two or three  
years older than he was. He had pale blonde hair, a hardenned build, and a thin, horizontal scar above his left brow. He  
looked the terrified Max over, then turned to the Redguard and said, "Thank you, Aurora." Max had no idea what this was  
about, but he had obviously just stepped into a trap. The Nord turned to Max with a slightly critical expression. "So, you  
are the one Astrid invited into the Family. I must say, I can't really place your skills or talents. You hide them well."

"Listen, how was I supposed to know that she was in the Dark Brotherhood?"

The Nord appeared taken aback by this outburst. "She made it pretty obvious who she was andwhat she wanted."

"Look, don't take me to jail, please. I'll do anything."

The Nord began to chuckle. "Oh, you must be rather confused. I'm not really a guard."

Max blanched. "You're not?"

"Nope. Silas is my name. I, along with my housecarl here, am in the Dark Brotherhood as well. I am a not-very-famous  
master of disguise; if you haven't heard of me, that's because I do my job so well that noone even knows that I exist. And we  
would like to welcome you to the Family."

"Um...thanks?" This wasn't what Max expected.

"Now," Silas said, "down to business."

And the catch. "Business?"

Silas smiled evilly. "Oh, yes. You see, I am a senior member of the Brotherhood. I have been at this job just about as  
long as Astrid has. We, uh, don't exactly see eye to eye rgarding the, well, the running of the Brotherhood. Astrid has an  
authoritarian way of doing it, and I'm fine with it, however, we do still have a rivalry."

"You want to lead the Dark Brotherhood?"

"Indeed I do. And I have a group inside the Brotherhood who wants to see me rule the Sanctuary. I am currently working  
on plans for a...hostile takeover."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Max suspiciously.

"Why, I should have thought that that was obvious. I want to offer you a place in the new order. What do you say?"

This sounded important. How could Max safely turn this down? "I'd be happy to join you."

Silas smiled. "Exellent. Now, remember, tell anyone about this, amd you die. Simple enough, right?"

Max laughed weakly. "Yeah, very."

"Now, Aurora and I have a job to do. You just head over to the Sanctuary."

"See you around." Aurora said smoothly, winking.

Max, stomach simultaneously clenched due to yet more Dark Brotherhood involvement and fluttery from Aurora's comment,  
headed toward the Sanctuary alone. As he approached the demonically-styled door, he heard it's bone rattling whisper.

"What is the music of life?" it creaked.

Max scrambled around in his mind and replied, "Silence, my brother."

"Welcome home." it replied.

...


	2. Chapter 2, Taking Care of Business

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Chapter 2- Taking Care of Business

Silver loved her job. It may not be the most prestegious of all jobs, but Silver was good at it. She approached Grelka,  
in front of all the people of Riften, with no fear whatsoever and told her, "Grelka, you have a debt to pay."

Grelka didn't take this well. "Oh yeah? And what's it to you? Taking orders from Maven Black-Briar, are you?"

"Aren't we all?" Silver replied. "Now, hand over the septims."

"Come and take them, girl. I don't take orders from Maven." And with that, she pulled a knife on her. But Silver was  
hoping for this. She unsheathed her own dagger and flung it effortlessly at Grelka's hand. Grelka screamed as the dagger knocked  
her knife out of her hand and stuck. The townspeople screamed, and ran for cover. As Grelka screamed, "No more! I yield. I Yield!"  
Silver snatched up her coin purse and allowed herself to be spirited away by the Black-Briar henchmen.

Soon enough, Silver was in Black-Briar Manor, staring at Maven Black-Briar herself. At that moment, Lady Maven was having  
a discussion with her housecarl and right-hand man Maul. But Maven noticed Silver's smug face and ended her previous conversation.

"Ah, so you're back. Good. How did it go? I was occupied, so I couldn't be there to witness it."

Silver continued to grin as she said, "Grelka was not a problem. She tried to put up a fight, of course, but I took care  
of her, my way."

"And I suppose you didn't miss."

"I never do."

Maven smiled. "Good. Now, as agreed, the Guild's payment." She handed Silver a large sack of gold, then continued. "And  
for you, I will let you keep Grelka's gold. I don't really want it, all I wanted was to send the message. Once again, it was good  
doing business with you, again."

"Thank you." Silver sang. "Oh, and my bounty-"

"-will be wiped out, don't worry."

Silver ventured to the Bee and Barb, were she decided to let loose and just get a drink and relax for once. She ordered some  
Honningbrew Mead (not feeling even the slightest bit guilty about it or considering what the Black-Briars would think) and began to  
drink conscienciously. After a while, she got bored and decided to start a brawl for the fun of it. She flicked an olive at a large,  
hulking man who had just finished yelling at a smaller Wood Elf for bothering him. He then threw his tankard at him, missed, and hit  
Keerava. Her fiancee Talon-Jei lashed out and attacked the man irrationally. In no time, a full blown brawl broke out. Silver, having  
had her amusement, left.

She made her way to the Honorhall Orphanage, where someone had recently murdered Grelod the Kind, and took the stairs down to  
the Ratways. As she made her way in, she heard voices further down the tunnel. One was harder and deeper, the other was radient with  
depravity and schemeing. They were in a disagreement, and Silver realised that they were in her way, and wouldn't take kindly to having  
thier plans overheared.

"You said that your plan would have us living like kings." the deeper voice complained. "That we would have something as big as  
the Black-Briars going on. All I see is me living in a stinkhole with no gold, no food and no glorious mansion."

"Oh, do stop your complaining." drawled the other voice. "You didn't seem to mind the idea before we came down here. Now don't  
be such a milk-drinker and listen to my plan again. The Thieves Guild is camped out just a little farther down the tunnel, then we need  
to find a way across the drop. Maybe we could shoot the mechanism with a bow or something- AAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIGGGHHHH!"

Silver had hurled a dagger into the little man's back. As his friend turned to locate whoever had thrown the dagger at his  
friend, he attempted to draw his waraxe, but Silver threw another dagger effortlessly int his neck. As the two men lay dying, gasping  
for that last breath, Silver came to them and ended their misery by snapping their necks. As if nothing had happenned, she cleaned her  
daggers and proceeded to lower the very mechanism that her latest victims were argueing about.

Silver came to the entrance to the Ragged Flaggon, and immediately noticed an industrious lowlife camped out in front of it.  
She had a map spread across a makeshift table and kept marking something on it. Silver snuck closer and noticed that it was a map of  
Skyrim, and "X"'s were placed around several locations in every Hold. It was a treasure map. Silver couldn't pass this up. She waited  
for the lowlife to wander off to sleep, then stole the map. Silver smirked as she imagined the woman waking up in the morning to find  
that her precious map had fallen into new possession.

As Silver entered the Ragged Flaggon, she noticed that the only person present, Dirge, was slumped against a pillar snoring.  
She grinned as she thought up an amusing way to wake him up. She snuck into Vekel the Man's storage cubbards and grabbed a tankard of  
mead, then grabbed a cockroach and plopped it into the mead.

But Silver wasn't the only one there. "I want a part a' that, lass." whispered Delvin Mallory, who had apparently been preparing  
to do something very similar.

"Sure." Silver replied.

Delvin took lead. "Oi, troll-face."

Dirge shook himself awake with a start, then turned his droopy eyes to them. "Yeah, what?" he demanded, groachilly.

"It's almost time for you to get back to work, big guy." Silver replied. This was true, but merely an excuse. "We need you up  
and ready before the others get here." she added as she offered him the mead.

Dirge took it and replied gruffly, "I know my own job, Silver." And with that, he downed the tankard in one.

Silver and Delvin sniggered as they walked off. "Should we tell 'im?" Delvin asked, fighting back real laughter.

"No, let's wait for everyone else to tell him."

Silver laughed for real as she seperated from Delvin and headed for the Cistern. When anyone asked what she was laughing at, she  
obscurely showed them the map, then silently walked off. She had work to do, and she wanted to get it done. She found Brynjolf and Mercer  
talking about something unimportant to Silver. As she strutted forward, the men stopped talking and turned to her, awaiting the results.

"Well, lass?" Brynjolf asked.

"Another triumph."

"Yes, we all heard about that." Mercer replied. "The question is-"

"Oh yeah, the payment." Silver handed it over, careful not to accidently hand over her payment.

Mercer seemed pleased. "Well, this is an adequete payment, all things considered."

"Good work lass." Brynjolf told her, making up for Mercer's abruptness. "Anything else to report?"

"Someone wanted to break into the Flaggon. I stopped them, though."

Mercer frowned. "I hate it when people do this. Thinking they can have at the Guild's treasure, do they? Good thing you took care  
of them."

"Thanks." Silver had obviously just been complimented.

"Run off now, until we have more work for you."

Silver wondered back into the Cistern, where she found Vex and Tonillia, her usual hangout buddies. They were haggling over a  
strange paper, occassionally sipping their mead. Silver joined them, then caught onto thier conversation.

"I still don't understand how you managed to find any of them, Vex." Tonillia admitted. "How did you do it?"

"Oh, I listen to rumors. You can tell if noblemen, or anyone for that matter, have them if they don't know what they are. They love  
to display them."

"Display what?" Silver asked.

"Stones of Barenziah." they answered.

Silver gasped. "You're joking."

Vex grinned superiorly. "No, I'm not. I've managed to track down a few of them. But only a few of them. I'll have Delvin and Brynjolf  
help me with this, but I know for a fact that Mercer wants you to actually steal them. He seems to have a soft spot for you, if you ask me."

Silver started. "He's too old for me."

"Don't rule it out, though." Tonillia added.

Cynric Endell came over, no doubt to flirt with Silver again. It wasn't as though Silver didn't appreciate this, but she knew as well  
as Cynric did that there was nothing really between them. "Don't rule what out?" he asked. "You ladies wouldn't happen to be talking about me,  
would you?"

Vex spoke up first, displeased that one of her private business transactions was interrupted. "As strabge as it is, we weren't Cynric.  
We were discussing business."

"Oh, right." he rplied, pretending to be heartbroken.

"Oh, play nicely, Vex. It doesn't hurt to ask." She stood up and looked Cynric in the eye. "Even if we won't answer."

Cynric grinned. "Well, what if I asked nicely?"

"Maybe." Silver answered rougishly. "But probably not." She then noticed that the Flaggon was full. "Oh, Dirge!" she called.

"Yeah, what?" he answered in his usual grunt.

"Enjoy your mead earlier?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Silver grinned. Everyone was listenning now. "You should know that I put a cockroach in it, right?"

As everyone laughed, Dirge gagged and turned plumb. "YOU SERIOUSLY DID WHAT?! AND I- YOU- WHAT?! BY NOCTURNAL! DAMN YOU, SILVER!"

Thus was Silver's typical day. She loved her life, and she loved being the best at what she did. She was feared by the decent people  
of Rirten, and indeed all of Skyrim, for her silence, cockiness, and deadly, almost supernatural aim. And it would have been a lie to say that  
As Silver sat in the Flaggon mulling this over, and smiling, Brynjolf came in and sat beside her.

"I have a special job for you, lass." he said excitedly.

"I'm listenning." Silver had never been given a special job before.

"I have tracked down a personal possession of Silver Fox himself.

"No way."

"Aye, I'm serious, lass. You see, back when he was alive and running the Guild in the Glory Days, the other thieves constructed a silver  
statuette of a fox to remember him by. A creative way to make sure that he went down and history, and all that. But about fourty years ago, it  
was stolen by a group of bandits, who in turn lost it in Eastmarch somewhere. Now, as it turns out, a man named Hogan found it recently, and has  
been running his mouth about it. He is in Windhelm."

"Say no more. That's all I need. Well," she admitted, "maybe I could use some supplies."

here...


	3. Chapter 3 Darkwater Crossing

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"Hey, Marcurio." called Valens. "We're almost there, come on."

The mage puffed up behind the adventurer. Marcurio hated long distances and climbing, which might explain why he was a mage. He could  
use magic to accomplish anything. And indeed, Marcurio was a great mage.

"You think you can make it, my friend?" Valens asked humoringly but not unkindly.

Marcurio panted, "You just worry about yourself. I'll live. My life will be miserable due to extreme trauma, mind you," they both laughed  
as he went on, "but I'll live."

Valens chuckled. "Darkwater Crossing is only two and a half miles from here. Let's get there so that we can get some mead, meet some women."

Marcurio was suddenly re-energised. "Well in that case, let's get going."

And so they did. As they did so, they noticed that they had found a mining town. There was a lone building beside the river, and the mine.  
All the townsfolk, less than half a dozen in number, lived out in the open and slept in sleeping rolls around a campfire. As it was still relatively  
early, nobody had started to get to work yet. As they approached, a little girl came up to them, without the slightest trace of a youthful fear of  
strangers. In fact, she seemed quite eager to meet them, which was more than could be said for her mother, who eyed Marcurio with obvious distrust.

"Hello, strangers." the little girl said cheerfully. "I'm Hrefna. Welcome to Darkwater Crossing."

Valens smiled back as he replied, "Thank you, dear. You're very polite."

"Thank you, sir."

"My name is Valens, and this is my friend Marcurio. We are adventurors."

"Aye." Marcurio added. "We make an excellent team, Valens and I. Valens is a superb dualist and tactician. And me, my skills in magical combat  
are unmatched."

"So you are a mage. I was wondering about that."

"Hrefna." her mother called, "Don't ask him any insulting questions. I've heard that most mages have bad tempers."

Indeed, Marcurio began to turn red in the face. But Hrefna was a kinder person than her mother. "I'm sure that Mr. Marcurio is not like that.  
He looks like a brave and kind person to me." Marcurio blushed appreciately.

"Hmmph." she grunted. "Maybe. If you two are really adventurors, talk to Annekke Crag-Jumper. We have a missing Argonian."

"Yeah, Derkeethus." Hrefna elaborated. "He's a nice person. He used to take me diving in the deeper part of the river, before he disappeared."

Deciding to take Hrefna's mother's advice, the duo asked around and found Annekke Crag-Jumper. "Excuse us, ma'am," Valens asked, "but we were  
told that you had a missing Argonian that we might be able to help find."

"If you ask nicely." Marcurio added, obviously having something inappropriate in mind. Valens should have known that this might happen.

"Marcurio-" but he was cut off by a large man who came over to them, obviously mad about what Marcurio just said.

"Hey, you're flirting with my wife, mage. Back off!"

Marcurio looked as if he wanted to roast the man alive, but by now, Valens had memorized his response in his friend's defence.

"What my friend here meant was that we take jobs that benefit desperate people. Is this Argonian Derkeethus well known around here?"

Leaving her husband and Marcurio giving the other evil sideways glances, Annekke turned to Valens and replied, "Well, if he wasn't before, he  
is now. Derkeethus is a hard worker, and he always has been. He's always looking for ways to help out his friends, especially little Hrefna. He loves  
caves, so everyone has begun assuming that he may have vanished inside Darkwater Cave."

This didn't sound good. Marcurio asked, politely this time, "What's in Darkwater Cave?"

Annekke stiffenned as she answered him, probably still offended by his quip. "Chaurus Reapers livein the cave, everyone is sure of that. If  
Derkeethus has vanished inside Darkwater Cave, he must have been attacked by them. However, we recently began hearing noises from the inside. We are  
afraid that they might be Falmor. I wouldn't be at all surprised, Verner's brother Gerald went missing in there, and we found him ripped to shredds by  
a jagged object."

Valens grimmaced. "Yep, it's Falmor alright. They use jagged swords. I hate Falmor."

Marcurio, however, was undettered. "You worry too much, my friend. We can find the Argonian."

Valens grinned at Marcurio's eagerness. This was why they were friends. "It's settled then. Do you have any supplies?"

They recieved all the useful supplies that the miners could spare, then said goodbye to them. Marcurio assured a worried Hrefna that they would  
not die, and that they would bring Derkeethus back. He seemed to have made a friend; that, or he simply enjoyed the attention. They headed up the river,  
and reached the cave in question rather easilly. However, they were forced to make short work of a pair of hungry Mudcrabs that were waiting by the  
entrance. Valens stabbed his mudcrab in the sensitive eyes, and Marcurio froze his solid. They moved on, having warmed up, and almost immediately fell  
into a partially submerged pathway. At the same time, they heard a gutteral, clicking, inhuman dialect. Falmor! They were in the cave just ahead, and  
they heard the adventurers falling into the water.

Deciding that there was nothing for it, they charged into the depths of the cave, cutting down any and all Falmor that got in thier way. They  
quickly ran into the Chaurus Reapers that the miners told them about, and thier progress slowed, but didn't stop. Just as Valens and Marcurio began to  
realise just how immense the cave was, and how full of Falmor it was when they heard a voice call out, "Hello?! Is someone up there?! Please, help me  
out!" So they headed for the voice, directly into the "headquarters" of the Falmor.

The adventurers fought Falmor Shadowstalkers, killed by Marcurio, and a Falmor Gloomwalker, a shaman, was slain by Valens. They then began to  
desperately look for the voice, because more and more Falmor kept pouring in. But they couldn't find it.

The voice called out again. "Are you still up there?"

"Yeah, but we can't find a way to free you." Marcurio responded.

"There should be a chain on the wall that opens a secret door. I think it was in the shadows."

Valens and Marcurio kept searching for the chain, and it was soon found by Marcurio, who waisted no time pulling it. They waited until an  
Argonian emerged from the depths of the previously hidden room. Of course, they knew who he was.

"Derkeethus." Valens panted. He and Marcurio had been fighting very hard and were tired.

He grinned sheepishly. "Aye, that's me. The others sent you?" His rescuers nodded, and he continued. "I would thank you for saving my life, but  
we are'nt out of here yet." With that, he drew a pickaxe from his belt, ready for the fight for the door.

And fight is exactly what they did. There were now Falmor everywhere, making the entrance push look as if it were absolutely not worth being  
called an accomplishment at all. The adventurers pushed on with all thier strength and resolve, thier progress slowing. The Falmor were relentless,  
climbing up the walls to shoot them with arrows, or else jumping off to try furiously to score a killing stroke. They were soon getting lucky, scoring  
fleshwound after fleshwound. Eventually, Valens, despite his years of experience and confidence, began to realise that they weren't going to make it.  
Derkeethus knew this as well, but was, like his new friends, determined not to go down easy. Marcurio, however, was not going to let the Falmor kill  
him. He took a deep breath, twirled his arms, and fired a massive burst of lightning at the filthy cretens, susteining it until they either dispursed,  
wimpering and howling, or else lay on the ground rduced to nothing but ash. As Marcurio stopped firing his spell, the cave was filled with ash and had  
the distinct and unpleasant smell of burnt flesh.

"Wow, Marcurio! That was amazing!" Valens shouted, pleased to have an alternative to death.

Derkeethus was impressed as well, but he retained reason in his deminished state. "WE should still get out of here, just in case they come back."

And so they did. They left the cave, breathed in the fresh air, though it had only been hours since they went in, then headed back to Darkwater  
Crossing. Upon thier return, everyone celebrated that Derkeethus was not dead, that thier new heroes still lived, and that the Falmor and Chaurus seemed  
to have fled the cave forever. They tended to thier wounds, gave them humbleyet welcome food and drink, and let them rest.

The next day, Valens had lost track of Derkeethus. Fearing for him once again, he asked around and learned that the Argonian ha dgotten up at dawn  
and had gotten back to work. Dumbfounded, Valens went to find him. He was indeed in the mine, picking away at an ore vein.

"Derkeethus?"

"Ah, there you are my new friend." he replied, turning his head. "I figured you'd be up an hour from now."

"Well, I wake up earlier than Marcurio does. You're working again, eh?"

Derkeethus turned to him. "Only for a little while. I've made a decision. I don't want to stay here any more. I want to be an adventurer like you.  
If you'll have me, the others have agreed that thay can get along well without me."

Valens considered this, then remembered how well the Argonian wielded his pickaxe. He offered his hand to shake as he replied, "Welcome aboard."

Derkeethus smiled as he took the hand and shook it.

ment here...


	4. Skyrim Allegience, Chapter 4 Sanctuary

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Chapter 4- Sanctuary

Max was anxious. He really didn't want to do this, but if he ran, the Dark Brotherhood would hunt him down and kill him. And what of the assassin  
Silas? Should he join Silas in his quest for power, or ought he to report this encounter to Astrid? Only when Max knew who stood a better chance of winning  
would he do that. Maybe Astrid would understand.

As these thoughts raced through his mind, he stepped tentatively into the openned door. He tramped down the stepps and turned to see a foyer with  
a table with a map on it by the far wall, a series of shelves, and a door that probably led to Astrid's room. And speak of the devil, Astrid, slumped on  
a wall with her arms crossed, had noticed him

"Ah, there you are." she smiled sweetly. "I hope you found the place alright."

Max restrained the urge to tell her about Silas as he asked, "So what happens now?"

Astrid stopped slumping and turned to him, still smiling. "Well, what happens now is you start your new life in the Dark Brotherhood. You're part of  
the Family, after all. This, as you can see, is our Sanctuary. You won't find a safer place in all of Skyrim. So get comfertable."

Max couldn't help himself. "Is Silas here?"

Astrid stared blankly. "No, not yet. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I happenned to run into him in the woods a short time ago-"

"He asked you to join his little rebellion, didn't he?"

Max had screwed up, big time. "I-I-well-he, yes, he did." Max stared at the ground.

Astrid took on a pitying expression. "And what did you say?"

"I told him that I would." Max mumbled.

"Oh dear." Astrid sounded worried, not angry. "You did well telling me this, but if he finds out you did, then he will kill you. Don't worry, dear,  
I won't let that happen."

Max looked up, hope in his eyes. Astrid continued. "I know now that he's up to something. Did he tell you who else was involved in his plot?"

"He didn't mention who, but he did say that there were some in the Sanctuary."

"Hmm... I'll deal with this. But, in the mean time, you must be anxious to get to work. I'm arranging a job, but need more time. Go speak to Nazir.  
He will give you minor contracts to keep you busy. Now, when Silas returns, he will doubtlessly take you along to assist him in these minor contracts. He will  
try to 'train' you. Go along with it for now, okay? Stay on the safe side."

"Sure, no problem." Max replied. "Thank you."

"On a more pleasant note, the Night Mother will arrive. And then, things around here will get more interesting. After all, the Night Mother is supposed  
to bring good fortune to us. Now, why don't you go meet the rest of the Family. Don't let thier jagged personalities get your spirits down. Ah, but first, a  
welcome home present." She handed him a pair of Shrouded Armor, Shrouded Gloves and Shrouded boots. "May it serve you well in all your...endeavors."

"Thank you, Astrid." Max replied as he put it on. He continued into the Sanctuary, were he saw the other members in an apparantly amusing conversation.

An Argonian assassin laughed out loud. "Again, again. Do the part were he tries to buy you some candy."

To this a little girl replied, "Okay, okay. Wait Here we go." She began pretending to have a deeper voice as she continued to tell the story which was  
obviously so funny. "'Oh, you're such a pretty little girl. Would the sweetie like a sweetie? Oh yes, how about some chocolate?'" She switched back to her own  
voice as she recalled, "Oh yes, please, kind sir. My mama and papa left me all alone, and I'm so very hungry. I know a shortcut to the candyshop. Through this  
alley.' 'oH yeah, very good, very good. My, it is dark down here. Oh, but you're so beatiful. Such a lovely smile. Your teeth. Your teeth! NOO! AGGHH!"

Max was appalled by this disgusting anecdote, but the others roared with laughter. A Dunmer woman said to the girl, "Oh Babette, you are so wicked."

A Redguard turned to an old man and said, "What about you, Festus? How did your last contract turn out."

To this, a massive, white-haired Nord added, "Oh, yes, please, old man. Regail us with your tales of wizardry."

Festus didn't take to this well, but maybe this was usual banter because the wizard replied. "Oh, the young and stupid. Always mocking the experienced  
and brilliant. My contract went very well, I'll have you know. Tried a new spell. A little something I've been working on in my spare time. Came this close to  
turning that priest inside out. Damn messy."

The Dunmer turned to the massive Nord. "And what of your latest, Arnbjorn? Something about a Kahjit? Merchant, was it?"

Babette sniggered. "Oh, a big doggy chasing a little kitty. How adorable."

As the laughter died down, Arnbjorn replied gruffly, "I am not adorable, it was not funny, and he wasn't a merchant. He was a Kahjit monk, a master of the  
Whispering Fang style. But now he's dead... And I've got me a new loincloth."

Everyone burst out laughing at this last one, even Arnbjorn. Max decided to approach Nazir now, make an entrance. He approached the Redguard and said more  
confidently than he felt, "Nazir?"

Everyone turned to him, studying him critically. Nazir looked him over then replied, "So you're the new member of our dwindling, dysfunctional little family."

"Yes." he replied. "It's nice to meet you."

But Nazir was not exactly for idle chit-chat, saying as Festus scoffed at Max's manners and Arnbjorn shook his head in disgust, "Save the nicities for now.  
None of us want to invest in someone who very well might be dead tomorrow."

"Oh-kaay." Max decided to act tough. "But I won't be dead tommorrow. I can bring us back to glory."

Arnbjorn and Festus laughed mockingly as Nazir replied, "Ooo, cocky. I give you three days before you screw up and someone slits your througt."

"How about we break the new blood in? I'll take him." Arnbjorn growled menacingly.

The Argonian had other plans. "No, I'll dual him. You'd just kill him, and he's not very useful if he's dead."

"Ten septims Veezara wins." Babette chimed in.

"I don't want to dual any of you." Max replied. This place was terrible.

"What's the matter?" Nazir asked snidely. "You affraid?"

Jus then, "Alright everyone, break it up, break it up." Max knew that voice. It was Silas. "Give him room. Let me have a look at him."

Max held still as Silas examined him. He had to give the assassin credit, he was acting convincingly as if he'd never seen Max before. Silas finished examining  
Max's face and said, "Hmm... You've never used a weapon in a fight before, have you?"

"No, why?"

But Silas continued to think, watched silently by the others. Finally he said, "I could use your help. What do you think Aurora?"

Aurora replied smoothly, "I don't think he could really help that much. Maybe you should let Veezara-"

"No, I think I'll train him."

Max was doing his best to follow, but this might be a threat. "Train me?"

"Yeah. First, I'll share some contracts with you. Trust me when I say that I use creative, yet unorthodox methods. For now, you can be my messanger."

Max expected something bigger. "Messanger?"

"Something wrong with that?" Silas asked calmly.

"Well, no. It's just that I expected something, well, bigger. But, I suppose that I should be thankful, since I'm a newblood."

"Actually, you will be doing very important work in these contracts. Trust me, I'm a lenient guy."

Unsure what to think, Max agreed. The others presently wondered off, but Silas and Aurora took Max to see Nazir. "Since we have a newblood here, start us off  
with a couple simple ones."

"Okay. I currently have five contracts available. The beggar Narfi, an ex-miller named Ennondias Pappius, Beitild the mine boss, Lurbuck the bard, and a vampire  
named Hern. Those ought to keep you occupied for a while, and they should be easy enough for the newblood to handle."

"Oh, he might be able to handle more dangerous contracts, but let's keep those for later." Max's througt loosened as Silas said to save the worse contracts.  
"Let's get going, kid."

Outside the Sanctuary, Max decided to start a conversation. "Sooo... Do you really believe that I could handle worse contracts?"

"Well, we'll see, won't we. You seem to have potential, but that's why we are going on these contracts. I have some ideas on how to deal with Lurbuck and Hern  
at the same time, since they are both in Morthal. What we need to do is convince Lurbuck to meet with Hern, then we kill them both. Aurora and I can deal with that, but  
you need to deliver this letter to him." He handed Max a sealed letter. "As for Beitild, I think that we can cause a tragic mining accident if we convinced her to isolate  
herself from the other miners. Narfi, well i'd say that we get him drunk and convince him to attack the guards. They'd certainly kill him. Ennondias Pappius should be easy  
to kill and make it look like a carelessly covered up accident."

"Why would we want people to know that it wasn't an accident?"

"To build the Brotherhood's reputation." Aurora's voice sent chills down Max's spine. He liked it.

"So, now that you understand your part in this, I'll tell you who in the Sanctuary can't be trusted in my schemes."

Max knew that this would happen, but at least now he could choose the side with the bigger kids in it. "I'm listenning."

"Festus Krex already turned on me, that's why Astrid knows of the highpoint in our rivalry. Nazir is aware of my ideals, but he is fiercely loyal to Astrid. As for  
Babette, I haven't approached her yet, because, if she is with Astrid, she and the others have orders to kill me if I conspire like this again. And Babette knows a lot of  
magic. Veezara has been on my side for a while now, but he has been caught by Astrid a few times and was not punished. Curious."

"And Gabriella?"

Silas smirked. "I have a way with most of the ladies. She has been swayed to my side a while ago. The biggest problem we face is what to do about Arnbjorn. I  
don't know if Astrid bothered to mention it, but he's her husband."

Max was surprised. "Husband?"

"Surprised? So was I when they got married. He's ferally loyal to her, her most loyal dog of all, in fact. If I were to defeat Astrid, the others would most likely  
switch sides. But not Arnbjorn. And there lies the problem. Arnbjorn is not only a dangerous and undisciplined fighter, which makes him dangerous and unpredictable enough,  
but he's also a former member of the Companions. That means that he's a werewolf."

"How do you know this?" Max asked in alarm.

"We used to be good friends." Silas growled. "Before he got married, he told me everything."

"Hey boys," Aurora chimed in, "A carriage. Anyone have any money?" Max had fifty septims left over from his job with Arentino, so he payed for the ride.

Silas scowled as they began the trip to Morthal. "That's something else we need. Money. I hadn't thought of that. But, thanks to you Max, I now know to adress this  
problem."

The assassins returned to the Sanctuary bearing five consecutive triumphs. Not only had Silas' plans worked, but hey happenned exactly as he thought that they would.  
Max had to wonder how he did it. The jobs that they pulled were terribly brutal and sickenning to Max, but to his surprise, he found that that was why he had come to enjoy  
this job. He loved being an assassin, something that would have bothered him before but no longer did. He could get used to this.

As Nazir finished giving them thier payments, amid sarcasm and insults. Silas assured Max that Nazir was actually impressed with him, so Max decided to not let this  
bother him much. He eventually did train under the arduous regiment of Veezara, but the Argonian was not as mean spirited as his friends. Max was now a trained killer.

Three days after the first five contracts, Astrid approached Silas, something everyone was interested enough in to watch. "I have a contract for you, Silas."

Silas grinned. "Oh, goodie. How disgracful is it?"

Astrid grinned in mock good spirit, then continued. "It's actually not disgraceful, it pays well. Very well. So, I've decided to let you take it. A man in Windhelm  
by the name of Hogan is wanted dead by a fair few citizens of the Rift, by the Thieves Guild. And they've offered us the unique treasure in his possession."

Silas grinned evilly. "I'll do it, but I want the treasure you speak of. All of it." he added heavilly.

Astrid had obviously not considered his price to be this high. She retorted, "You will recieve what I pay you, understood?"

"If you don't want to be so liberal, you could ask someone else."

Astrid chewed this over. She couldn't have anyone else do the job, and she wanted it done. But she obviously didn't appreciate this attack on her authority. Finally,  
she replied, "Fine. Do what you have to do, then you may keep the treasure. But you won't have any more contracts for a while after this. Are we clear?"

"Completely." Astrid glared into Silas' calm, mocking eyes and turned to leave. "Aurora," Silas called, 'pack your bags. We're going to Windhelm. Max, you've earned  
some rest. Aurora and I will take this one."

ent here...


	5. Chapter 5 That Night in Windhelm

Pa

Chapter 5- That Night in Windhelm

Silver had been to Windhelm before, and it was definitely not her favorite place to be. Apart from being a Breton and naturally hating cold weather, she didn't like  
that this was the home of the Stormcloaks. Not that she hed taken sides, but Silver hated the Stormcloaks. They didn't seem to realise that liberty would irreparably damage  
Skyrim's economy, leave them open to attacks from the Aldmeri Dominion. Silver also hated the elves, but not as much as the Stormcloaks did. The Dunmer of the city were all  
seperated into the Grey Quarter, away from the Nords. Everyone who had ever been to Windhelm knew that.

Silver made her way to the Candlehearth Inn and asked for the man named Hogan. The Innkeeper told her that he was in the bar speaking with a new friend. This was not  
expected in any way. Brynjolf had told her that Hogan was a man who made no friends. However, this was of no concern to her, all she wanted was the Silver Fox Statue.

She made her way into the bar, where the enormously fat Hogan was talking animatedly with an Adventuror in Steel Plate Armor. They were laughing at a joke Hogan was  
telling.

"Hahahaha. An'- an' so, with a tremendous belch, I lost my balance and fell onto my great, fat arse and farted. I sobered at tha' point, so I 'ad 'nuff sense to be  
'mbaraced. That, my adventurous friend, is why I on'y drink a dozen mugs o' mead instead o' twenty."

"Well, that is still quite a lot of mead Hogan. You can obviously hold it, though."

"Yeah. I win lots o' competitions like drinking contests. I could beat anyone in this room in Paranshad, too. E'er play it?"

"Yes, I have played it. So you think you can beat me, do you? Let's find out. How about a friendly game?"

Hogan leered. "You're on. Here're the stones and the number pieces." He handed his friend a small cup and the numbers, and they began to shake the cups. Silver then  
decided to get into this game. After all, the stakes weren't named yet. Maybe if she won, she could demand it. Besides, she had played Paranshad before, and she was a good  
cheat. She strutted up to the game, in front of everyone present, who were all watching, and dealt her own numbers.

The men looked at her in surprise. "What's this, eh?" Hogan asked, interested.

The other man looked at her and smiled flirtitiously. "And you are?"

"I'm in." she replied mysteriously. She noticed how handsome the adventuror was. He had pale blonde hair and a scar across his left brow. But his features were so  
smooth that he looked all the more handsome for it. She mentally shook herself, then turned to Hogan. "What are the stakes?"

Hogan thought for a moment, then responded. "B'fore I say, have you played b'fore?"

"I have. I'm a champion in the Rift, as a matter of fact."

"Ooo, a champion, eh?" Hogan replied. "Well then, Susanna, would you go into my room and bring me my prize, please." Susanna, after thinking hard, doubtlessly trying  
to decide how to say no, disappeared for a moment, returning with the Silver statue of a Fox. She looked desperately disappointed when Hogan took it from her. Hogan continued.  
"This is my wager. A beauty, ain't it? Notice the pure silver molded into the perfect shape o' a fox, the lack of tool cuts. The size too is a won'er. Who built it and how?  
I don't really care that much of how, but what matters to me is that I got it."

"Where did you find this, though?" the adventuror asked, awed.

"Oh-ho-ho-ho, I'll tell you. I heard 'bout some Thieves an' bandits who were fighting over this li'l beauty. I travelled to find 'em, and they captured me. But I'm a  
clever basta'd. I learned that the bandits were fighting amongst themselves, so I convinced some o' 'em to fight thier friends while I slipped out and stole thier prize. I  
have managed to stay out of thier way while they look for me, though. Don't you lot worry about that."

"Good for you." the adventuror replied. "Hmmm... Well, I'd say that that is worth at least two thousand, five hundred septims. So, I wager two thousand, five hundred  
septims." he said as he plopped an enormous sack of gold onto the table.

Silver was dumbfounded. These stakes were unbelievably high. What could she offer of that magnitude? She had a map to one of her stashes, but... Oh, fine. "I have this  
treasure map." she said as the men gazed at her. She placed the map onto the table.

Hogan smiled. "Now, pass the cups clockwise. I get your's," he said to the adventuror. "and you get her's."

"We know how to play." Silver responded. "Bad habit of your's?"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. But we 'ave people in the crowd 'oo've never played." He addressed these people and continued. "Now, we try to give a convincing bid, based on  
what ev'ryone's got. If we 'ave bad 'ands, we can still bid convincingly, because the other play'rs may 'ave be'er 'ands. I'll go first." He lifted his cup only slightly, then  
said smuggly, "Four ones."

Reasonable enough. Silver had two ones, chances were both these men had at least one each. The mysterious adventuror examined his pieces, then kept a straight face as  
he said blankly, "Six twos."

The audience muttered amongst themselves. This was a good next move, a slight breach in orthodox tactics, but still a good move. Silver had three two's out of twelve  
pieces. She had to guess three's now, but she only had one three. Maybe- "Five threes."

The adventuror eyed Silver, clearly calculating her next moves. Then they both turned to Hogan. "Four fours."

Silver had three fours. The adventuror looked his pieces over for a little while, then grinned triumphantly. He looked up at his opponents dramatically, then said,  
"Six. Five's." He raised his brow in challenge.

Hogan anf Silver were in trouble. They had no way of knowing if he was right, All Silver knew was that she had two fives. It was a risky gamble to make, but could she  
risk to call him off? She had only one choice. "Thirteen six's."

The adventuror burst out laughing. "HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, that's a good one! I caught you, didn't I?"

Silver was beaten. She mustered all the grace she could, then stepped up from the table. She was out of the game.

"I'm 'fraid I can't beat that las' one either. You beat me." Hogan at least had some sense of sportsmanship. He got up as well and the three shook hands. Silver could  
not understand how she had been beaten, and she now could not risk stealing the statuette. Maybe she could bump into him again some time. And when she did, she intended to rob  
him blind. Maybe she'd take out his eyes, too.

As the man gathered his winnings, Silver approached him. "Congradulations. I don't think I caught your name."

The adventuror turned to her and replied, "My name is Leif False-Flag."

Silver smiled. Noone could resist her charms. "Well, Leif, I hope we run into each other again. I'd like to know how you got so good at Paranshad."

"Maybe we will." They shook hands as he said, "But there really was no secret. I had a good hand from what you dealt."

And on that note, "Leif" exitted to the Windhelm stables, where Aurora was waiting. "Well?"

"He has the note, Silas."

Silas grinned evilly.

Silver was nearly appoplectic. She lost the treasure, and there was no telling where it had gone. In the morning, she would leave for Riften once again, but  
what of her reputation? Well, she would get her payback eventually. But in the meantime, she would have to have the Guild place bounties on Leif's head. With that in mind, she  
rented a room and went to sleep.

Hogan was confused. The night before, he had lost a very valuable treasure, which was no tragedy, as he was a rich man anyway, but after the game was over, he went to  
his room to find a letter in his things, which had certainly not been there before. And now, he was out in the middle of nowhere in the early morning, in the cold snow. Why?  
Because the letter told him to. And so he sat there, in an area out of the wind, and waited.

He hadn't waited long before he heard a noise, footsteps in the snow. Someone was coming. Then he heard more and more. Someone was coming for him. Bandits! He drew his  
steel sword and cried out, "Who goes there?!"

An Orc came into view, an Orcish Greatsword atrapped to his back. He had his arms crossed, and his tusks were in a leer. "Hogan?"

"Yeah? Who are you?"

"We are hitmen. Someone wants you dead."

And with that, several strong and well-armed mercenaries grabbed Hogan and began tearing him apart, cutting him up. The dying man could only mumble "AARGH, NOOOO! WWRR-  
RRAAAAGGGGHHH!" Hogan was dead, brutalized.

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	6. Chapter 6- Scemes and Conspiracy

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Chapter 6- Schemes and Conspiracy

Max was, like the others, not entirely pleased that he was here. The man was short, wore flamboyant, red jester's armor and had an annoying, high-pitched voice. He was  
excessively protective of the box he had delivered to the Sanctuary. And, as far as Max was concerned, the man was absolutely, possitively, without a doubt, completely, one  
hundred percent, hopelessly insane. His name, as he had told them, was Cicero.

And he was causing a scene. "But the Night Mother is Mother to us all." he whinned. "It is her voice we follow! Her will! Would you dare risk disobedience? And surely...  
Punishment?"

Arnbjorn, the one with whom Cicero was debating, growled back. "Keep talking, little man, and we'll see who gets 'punished'."

"Oh, be quiet, you great lumbering lapdog." Festus replied to Arnbjorn. "The man has had a long journey. You could at least be civil." He turned to Cicero. "Mister Cicero,  
I for one am delighted that you and the Night Mother have arrived. Your presence here signals a welcome return to tradition."

Max rolled his eyes. Festus was obviously being nice only because Cicero was the Night Mother's Keeper. But Cicero was absolutely overjoyed to recieve these undeserved  
compliments. "Oh, what a kind and wise wizard you are." he responded with a little unexplainable jig. "Sure to earn our Lady's favor."

Astrid, not to be outdone and to secure Cicero's safety, said, "You and the Night Mother are of course welcome here Cicero. And you will be afforded the respect that you  
deserve with your possition as Keeper. Understood... Husband?" she added pointedly to Arnbjorn.

In response, Arnbjorn simply went "Hmph." and crossed his arms.

Cicero now began to dance as he said merrilly, "Oh yes, yes, yes. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"But make no mistake. I am the leader of this Sanctuary, and my word is law. Are we clear on that?"

She was obviously threatenning him, but Cicero remained cheerful as he replied happilly, "Oh yes, mistress. Perfectly! You're the boss." But as everyone began to disperse,  
he added, "Oh yes, mistress. You're the 'boss'. For now."

Max decided to get in good with the Night Mother, so he went to talk with Cicero himself.

Cicero noticed him and said, "Oh, another member of the Family. Hello, hello! So very good to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Cicero. I'm Max."

"So polite, so polite. Cicero likes you. The Night Mother is sure to like you too. Oh, we're going to be fast friends."

Just then, Max saw Silas and Aurora return with bags of something heavy. Cicero noticed them too, and was even more unhappy to see them than Max was.

He stomped over to Silas and yelled, "Wait, oh wait! I know you! From the road. Cicero never forgets a face."

It was amazing how Silas could still keep a straight face with so much loathing in Cicero's voice. Aurora even backed away, unsure what to do. But not Silas.

"You?" Silas replied. "So, this is what you had in the crate, eh?" He motioned the Night Mother's crate.

"Oh yes, the Night Mother! Our Mother! Cicero told you who it was, before he knew who you were, even. But you didn't help poor Cicero, oh no! You helped that stupid farmer,  
Lorius! STUPID LORIUS! Oh, the guard said cruel things about us! Untrue things!"

"What sort of things?" Silas asked. Max had a sneeky suspicion that he knew the answer.

"HE SAID THAT I WAS TRANSPORTING WEAPONS! FOR THE WAR! IN MOTHER'S COFFIN!" Cicero began yelling, clearly intent on causing a scene. "HE MADE ME..." he swallowed, then said  
"Open it. INDIGNITY! SACRILAGE!"

Silas still remained stoically calm, but didn't say anything as he looked down on the little man.

Cicero continued, as everyone else watched the scene. "Someone lied." He was almost whispering now, adding to his menace. "Someone. Told the guard. That poor Cicero did  
something that he did not. We were detained, delayed. The Night Mother kept from her new home." He began to feign trust in his new Brother now, smiling twistedly as he said, "But  
Cicero knows that you wouldn't know anything about that. Because then Cicero would get angry. And that would be... Ugly." He now had a slightly dreamy look on his face. "Now Lorius,  
Lorius has learned the meaning of ugly."

"I'm sure that he does." Silas replied. "What was your name again? Cicero? Have you ever thought that maybe you are a tad bit... Crazy?"

Cicero began to guffaw insanely. "Crazy?! HAHAHA! Cicero?! Now that's... MADNESS, AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He returned to the Night Mother, and Max went over to Silas.

"A success?"

"Indeed. I just got word from a Contact of mine named Gothic Toe-Tongue. He's an Orc mercenary who helps me out occassionally."

"Good." It was Astrid. "Because I have just recieved a contract that I think only you can finish."

"Awww, really? Thank you." Silas replied. The others, even Cicero were watching this exchange, because this was a serious contract if Astrid was willing to waive the no-contract  
punishment, for Silas.

"The target is a man named Phinius Frey. He is the brother of current Thieves Guild Master Mercer Frey. He's trying to resurrect the Silver Hand."

Silas took these details without sarcasm. "Who's the client?"

"Oh, some werewolf. I don't remember his name. He was recently killed by the Vigil of Stendarr anyway. But this contract is about achieving glory, not money."

Silas thought for a moment, then replied. "Will I have access to our resources?"

"Not all of them." Astrid had learned.

"I have the disguises and weapons stashed away. All I need are Aurora, Veezara, Gabriella and Arnbjorn."

"Uh, Astrid, can I talk to you?" Arnbjorn asked quickly.

"What is it?" Astrid whispered when they were out of hearing range of Silas.

"You do realise what he's doing, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. I have learned that much from our new friend."

"Then you know that he will find a way to have me killed. Maybe he'll have me sent in alone."

"I will hear his plan, then alter it if he tries to do anything like that. Don't worry."

Meanwhile, Silas, Aurora, and Max also conspired.

"They know." Aurora whispered.

"I can tell."

"What are we going to do?" Max asked.

"What I do best: complicate things a bit. Shake things up."

Astrid and Arnbjorn returned. Astrid then commanded, "What is your plan, Silas?"

"I have a few pieces of Wolf Armor in my inventory. As you know, that is what the Companions wear. I'll give them to Veezara and Aurora, and let Gabriella choose her armor. I'll  
wear Glass Armor. Arnbjorn can wear whatever he wants, since I will need him to be a werewolf for this one."

"What are you getting at?" Astrid asked.

"In short, we need Phinius Frey to think that the Companions have come for him. I only have two sets of Wolf Armor, but not all the Companions wear this kind of armor. Even one  
set will be enough to convince them. To make the ruse complete, I need Arnbjorn to be a werewolf. He will be more likely to survive that way anyway."

"But why not just kill Frey?" Gabriella asked, confused.

"Because, we want him to spread the word of our existence, if in very small hints. After we attack him, he will become angry, because he thinks that the new Harbinger is allowing  
him to do what he is doing because of how the Harbinger resolved a hostage crisis. He will be so mad, he will likely attack Jorvaskkyr. But, for those of you who don't know," he said to  
the crowd, "the Harbinger is noneother than the legendary Dragonborn."

"He won't stand a chance." Arnbjorn observed.

"Precisely. So, what do you say, Astrid? An acceptable plan?"

Astrid replied blankly, "Sure, do what you have to." She moved in closer so that she could whisper to him, "But understand that whatever happens to Arnbjorn will be specifically  
your fault. If he dies, you will be thrown out of the DARK Brotherhood, and I will perform the Black Sacrament on you myself."

Silas convincingly appeared taken aback. "Uhhh, okay. Sure. Don't worry about him. He will be perfectly safe."

Astrid gave an emotionally charged "Hmph.", then turned about and left. Silas turned to the other assassins who were to come with him and said, "Okay, let's get to it."

Silas and the others had remained undetected thus far, which was good, because they had to pose a real threat to Phinius Frey's person. Veezara and Aurora wore the Wolf Armor that  
he had given them, and they were threatenning; Veezara for his experience and his physique, and Aurora because Silas knew that, though she was beautiful, she used that to her advantage.  
And in the Wolf Armor, she looked very beautiful. Gabriella donned fur armor, leaving her stomach exposed, and with her hair in a bun. She looked like a mercenary, which was why her  
disguise was so convincing. Arnbjorn wore unassuming, ordinary clothes. The only indication that he intended to fight was that he had a battleaxe on his back. Silas had a set of Glass Armor,  
like he said that he would. And for increased enigmaticity, he wore a Glass helmet, slightly obscuring his features. This would be a good way to keep out of the spotlight.

The Silver Hand had a little fort built around a massive, old, abandoned keep. The assassins were following a troop of the Hand that had gone out and plundered a little town, and used  
them to get into the fort. They waited and stayed out of sight until the gate was openned for the Hand plunderers, then all snuck in. Once inside, Silas decided that it would be extremely hard  
and pointless to continue sneaking. So, he and the others positioned themselves behind a group of the Hand, then slaughtered them.

The noise and the screams of thier comrads turned the attention of the others. Then a heavilly scarred and completely bald man yelled, "IT'S THE COMPANIONS! KILL THEM!" It was Phinius  
Frey. He was safely up in an observation tower with archers, but not for long. After he yelled his very basic instructions, he lept from the tower and into a window in the Keep.

"Arnbjorn, now!" Silas commanded. Arnbjorn didn't need telling twice. He bent over, his nose elongated, fur eruted from every inch of his body. He let out a frightenning roar as his  
transformation was complete. He then continued to wreak havok on the Silver Hand, only barely restraining himself enough to allow his fellow assassins to kill a few enemies each. Soon, the  
outside was completely devoid of life, including the archers in the watchtower, Arnbjorn having sent the whole thing crashing to the ground.

"What do we do now?" Veezara asked, looking to the massive gates of the Keep.

Silas smiled, he had thought of this. He looked to Arnbjorn, who had reverted to human form. "You up for some climbing? Or would you like to stay down here and wait with Aurora and  
Gabriella?"

"I'm not a climber." Arnbjorn replied simply.

Silas grabbed a set of the Silver Hand's armor, then said, "Put it on, you ripped the clothes in your transformation."

"Right." he said professionally.

Silas and Veezara climbed the walls of the Keep and into the lowest open windows. Inside, several surprised enemies met swift ends by Veezara's blade and Silas' steel axe. The assassins  
cleared the room, then proceeded down the stairs and into the gateroom, slaughtering any Silver Hand they met. They threw the switch and turned to see the others beside them, awaiting further  
orders. "Alright, let's go!" Silas commanded, and no sooner had he then Arnbjorn had transformed once again and rushed up the stairs, followed by pitiful screams as he savagely mauled the party  
of enemies that was sent to take care of the intruders. The assassins had to speed up big time to stay with thier bestial friend.

They killed thier way through the fort, until they came to a barricaded door. Silas thought it odd that it would be barricaded on thier side of the door. Phinius had obviously barred the  
door on the other side too. Silas motioned that the others stay quiet and don't move, then pressed his ear to the door.

"Send a message to our other plunderers! Now!" Frey commanded.

"But sir," a younger voice replied, "there is noone else!"

"Well- then- send word to Cyle Clyde!"

"I can't!"

"Why NOT!?"

"Because he declared the alliance off just yesterday! He killed the entire Saarthal Hideout! Even-" the boy's voice faltered as he said, "even Ma."

Silas was taken aback, and felt pity for these two men. So, Phinius Frey had a wife and son, did he? Phinius' voice became softer as he continued.

"Well, then I guess we're on our own. Don't worry Drey, I won't let those Companion dogs have thier way. Send someone out the side to sneak up on them."

"Yes sir."

Silas grinned. He motioned for the others to follow him, then, after they were far enough away, said, "I know of a way to do this. He is sending several parties to ambush us, and they are  
coming from tunnels on the east and west sides of the Keep, if my knowledge of this place's layout is anything. All we have to do is cave those tunnels in and break down the door."

"Why not just use the tunnels?" Aurora asked.

"Because Frey will expect that. We need to use brute force to really piss him off. Now let's go."

They assaulted the first tunnel as the first wave of enemies was coming out. This gave the element of surprise to the assassins, not the Hand. They slaughtered the Silver Hand that were  
present and made sure that thier screams carried to the big room wit Phinius. They soon heard "They're in the tunnel! Collapse it!", then moved out of the way. Frey had done the job for them. How  
thoughtful. They therefore proceeded to the next one bfore the dust from the first had even settled. However, the next one had been hastilly fortified, and it took them the better part of a quarter  
of an hour to take the Hand down. They then turned to the job at hand, but found a massive enemy, heavilly armored, Greatsword drawn, standing in thier path.

"You Companions are all going to Oblivion!" the man roared as he made a swipe at Gabriella. She blocked it and countered, but the hulking figure blocked her strike. Aurora attacked as well,  
but the man's armor was too thick. Her attack was hardly noticed. Veezara attacked, and succeeded in drawing blood from his hand's joints.

"Everyone aim for his joints!" Silas commanded. "They are not as heavilly armored!"

Arnbjorn attacked and got into a lock with the man. The others took advantage of this, and cut him on every joint, scoring one hit, then retreating and allowing someone else to score another  
hit. As he realised how close he was to defeat, the man roared in defiance and swung desperatley at everyone before he was killed by the savage beast that was Arnbjorn. Tired as they were, they knew  
what they had to do, and proceeded to cave the second tunnel in.

"Never- expected. Him." Silas sighed, sweat in his brow.

"We should get going." Aurora suggested.

"Aye." Silas replied. "Let's go."

And so they assembled by the door, stealed themselves, then watched as Arnbjorn slammed himself into the door. After only five hits, the door gave, and Arnbjorn was hit with three arrows.

SIlas was shocked. Not now! "Everyone protect Arnbjorn!" He yelled as the arrows flew to them. Phinius Frey and his son Drey watched with grim satisfaction, until the assassins killed the  
archers. Then the other Hand members fell. Frey congradulated them with applause. "Very impressive, Companions. Very impressive. But coming here was a mistake. For you must know that your friend is  
surely going to die. Those arrows were poisoned. But the antidote is right here." he motioned to the table beside him. A philter of some unknown potion sat there, unassumingly. "You can just take it,  
Companions, all you have to do is get past us." And with that, the Freys drew thier swords and raedied themselves.

Never had Silas ever had a stupider idea in his life. All he knew was that Arnbjorn couldn't die if he wanted to rule the Sanctuary. All he knew was that the antidote was sitting right there,  
waiting for him. All he knew was that the Freys were standing right beside a wide window. So he bumrushed them, taking them by surprise and knocking them out the window. He didn't wait for them to hit  
the ground. He snatched up the antidote and forced it down Arnbjorn's througt.

Arnbjorn was in human form now. He was mostly undressed, he had wounds in his back from the arrows, which Gabriella had pulled out, and he now had an expression of surprise on his face. "You-  
you saved me?"

"Obviously."

"What about your strategy?" Veezara asked, pointing ou the window. Silas looked out and saw the full effect of what he had done. Phinius Frey had survived his fall, but there were indentations  
in the roof below the window. He had obviously just hit those, and they partially broke his fall. The same couldn't be said for Drey Frey. The boy must have just missed the roofs and had come crashing  
down into a stall that the Hand had set up. Phinius held his son in his arms, sobbing, his left leg limp. The man looked up to the window slowly, then screamed at the top of his lungs, "DAMN YOU! YOU  
KILLED MY SON, YOU BASTAAARDS!"

Silas knew beyond a doubt that he would definately go after the Harbinger now.

Phinius Frey limped to Whiterun, and finally made it to the gates. His heart burned with vengeance, his ears thumped like thunder in a hurricane. The Whiterun Guard stopped him, saying, "Halt.  
The city is closed with the gang war going on. Official bussiness only."

"I have bussiness with the Harbinger." Frey groaned.

"Is it about the-"

"Yes, it's about the gang war, fool, now let me in!"

"Alright, alright. It's unlocked."

Phinius limped all the way to Jorvaskyrr, drawing curious glances from the people. He didn't even notice them. All he wanted was to get to Jorvaskyrr, now.

As he reached the longhouse, the man worshiping Talos stopped preaching and stared as well. Phinius couldn't think of sweeter justice as he called, "DRAGONBORN! I'M CALLING YOU OUT, YOU  
TREACHEROUS BASTARD!"

The doors openned, and the very man he was seeking came out. He had blonde hair and beard, bonded iron armor, and the great axe Wuuthrud on his back. "What are you playing at, Phinius?"

But Phinius was not going to stand for this. "You think you can send your dogs in to kill me and just pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about?! They killed my son! My brother Sabre!  
Everyone! But I survived! Oh yes, and now you're going to pay! Noone double-crosses Phinius Frey! Noone, you hear me?! We had a deal! You stay in your flea-bitten hut for six months and I release the  
hostages! But that must not have been good enough! HUH?! Take out th bad guy, am I right!? Well, who's the bad guy now, eh?! You fight me, if you're man enough!"

"Phinius, I have no idea-"

"-HOW I SURVIVED?! WE ARE BEYOND DIPLOMACY NOW, HARBINGER! NOW, DIIIIIIEEEE!"

"Fus, Ro Da!" Boom! The Dragonborn Shouted Frey into the weapons shop Warmaiden's. Frey stood no chance whatsoever, and now he was dead.

But Babette knew that this was an ill developement. The Companions now knew something was wrong, and they would likely look into this. So she left before anyone noticed her blood red eyes.

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	7. Chapter 7- Return of the Glory Days

"WHAT?!" Mercer was furious. Silver's report was disappointing, she had to admit, but Mercer was taking this a lot worse than Brynjolf was. Brynjolf remained silent, arms folded. He was thinking.

"I told you, he lost the statuette to an adventurer named Leif False-Flag."

"So?! Why didn't you steal it from him?!"

"I couldn't. He was a warrior, an experienced sellsword. I did try to follow him, but I lost his trail between Whiterun and Falkreath."

"Can you describe him, lass?" Brynjolf asked, calmer by far than Mercer.

Silver struggled to remember. "He wore Steel Plate armor-"

"Not that helpful." Mercer interupted.

"Let her finish, Mercer." Silver appreciated her mentor's manners, then continued.

"He had pale blonde hair, he was a Nord. He, um, was about five feet, eleven inches tall. He was lean, yet had muscle. And he had a scar over his left brow."

Mercer and Brynjolf glanced at each other, a look of anxiety on both thier faces. Mercer scowled. "Great. Now HE has it."

"You know this False-Flag guy?"

"His name is not Leif False-Flag, lass." Brynjolf responded, uncharacteristically grim. "He's a master of disguise, and bloody impossible to locate as he's constantly moving about Skyrim."

"He's a master of disguise." Mercer followed up. "We've run into him many times already. Delvin's met him, Vex has survived his attacks and Cynric has met him while he was disguised as a monk and  
gave him directions to Dawnstar, many years back."

"Who is he really?" Silver really wanted to go after the man now. Now, it was personal and a mystery.

"Delvin tells us that he knows that he's from-"

"The Dark Brotherhood." Mercer interrupted. "Should have guessed that he would be after Hogan. Rune turned in a guy who performed the Black Sacrament on him to me, and I had him kicked out."

"So that's what happenned to K'reesh'ta." The poor Khajit had not survived ten days on his own.

"If the Dark Brotherhood is meddling in our business, then they've crossed a line." Mercer's face began to redden as he stormed on. "From now on, anyone with former affiliation with them is not  
elligable to join. The only exception is Delvin, because he's useful. Anyone caught talking to a member of the Dark Brotherhood will be brought to me, and th assassin will be killed. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." they both answered.

"Good, now spread the word Brybjolf. I need to talk with Silver." As Brynjolf left, Mercer turned to Silver. She hoped that this was not about what she thought that it was about.

"Silver, don't tell anyone I said this, but you are the best the Guild has."

Silver couldn't help blushing as she replied. "Thanks. What else is new?"

"I have a special job for you and Sapphire. It is of the utmost importance that you don't screw it up, because if you do, the Khajit Caravans will no longer do business with us."

"Okay, no problem. What do they want me to steal?"

"They're not the clients." Mercer answered heavilly.

Silver was only slightly shocked, but still.. "I have to steal from them?"

"Mm-hmm. And that is why you must be very careful. Sapphire has already been filled in, but she is more of a bandit than a thief. Your client is Hajvarr Iron-Hand. He leads a group of bandits  
out of White River Watch. Meet him there, he will give you the details."

"Sure thing." Silver was relieved that this was not what she thought that it was.

The job was completed and Silver and Sapphire were laughing at thier immoral and illegal exploits. "The Khajit never stood a chance." Sapphire cackled.

"And the best part is, nobody ever knew that we were there." Silver added. "What a job."

Delvin noticed them return, then came over to them, a smile on his face.

"Uh-oh." Sapphire whispered. Delvin knew enough not to mess with Silver, but he wwould likely still try with Sapphire.

"Well, well. Look 'oo's back." Delvin said with obvious intent, but with obvious restraint as well. He obviously had something important to say. "'Eard 'bout the job ya pulled, but Mercer 'as a  
'nother one for ya, Silver."

"And not for me?" Sapphire was obviously offended.

"Sorry, lass. Maybe I could make it up to ya." Bam! Sapphire gut punched him and walked off.

Silver smiled, then decided to help the poor Breton to a seat. She needed him to give her the details, after all.

After wheazing for a few moments, he looked up and regained his breathe, determined to perform the task he was given. "The-the job I got for ya. Yeah, righ'. There are four jobs I got for ya. One  
from Olfrid Battle-Born in Whiterun, from Torsten Cruel-Sea in Windhelm, from Endon from Markarth, and Erikur from Solitude. That sounds like a lot'a jobs, an' it is, bu' the job is ta bring tha Guild back  
ta former glory. Mercer wan'ed ya ta do this job 'cuzz he thinks yer tha best ta do it."

"And you don't agree?" Silver raised her eyebrows.

Delvin obviously realised his mistake, then spluttered, "Err, no- I mean, yes. Yer a great thief, I jus' meant-" Bam! Silver gut punched Delvin, but not very hard; just hard enough to teach him to  
watch his words.

The journey to Markarth was not an easy one: bandits were everywhere, but they were hardly the problem on that journey. Silver narrowly avoided death many times at the hands of strange hill-dwellers.  
They dressed like barbarians, fought like wildmen, and were absolutely everywhere. Silver's skills with thrown weapons came in handy, and were the only things that kept her alive. Nevertheless, her progress  
slowed significantly, slowing to only two miles a day, unless one counted the enemy territory she pusshed through.

But, she did manage it, eventually. Silver was always impressed by Markarth, but now she knew why they said that "blood and silver flow through Markarth". So, Silver developed a plan. She approached the  
stables and the group of Khajit sitting there.

An armored Khajit barred her path and said, "Halt, state your business."

But an old Khajit stepped up and replied, "Come now, Khayla. This is a friend."

Khayla retorted, "I know who she is, Ri'saad. That's why I don't want her here."

Ri'saad laughed. "Oh, you must be referring to- Ah, Khayla, you must learn to let go of the past. Why don't you go eat something. I'll handle this."

After huffing angrilly to Silver, Khayla did just that. Ri'saad continued to smile good-naturedly, but bore an understanding expression in his eyes. That was one thing Silver liked so much about the old  
Khajit.

"I'm sorry about Khayla. She is not in a good mood today. We had a run in with some Forsworn."

"So that's what they are called?"

"Aye. You ran into some yourself, yes?"

"Yeah."

"So, what can Ri'saad do for you this time, my friend?"

"I need you to escort me, if it's not too inconvenient. I mean, you know of routes to Solitude, Windhelm and Whiterun that are off the roads, don't you?"

"Aye." Ri'saad obviously wanted to see where this was going.

"Good, because I'm gonna need to learn them. I'm willing to compensate; you see, Tonillia knew that I was going out for a while, so she sent me to deliver this to you." And with that, she took out a  
large bundle of Moon Sugar, one so large that everyone at the stables would go to prison if they were caught.

"Ah," Ri'saad's face lit up. "This will help me to create Skooma for the rest of my life. The trade is less then fair, for you. When you have finished your business in the city, give us the word and we  
will prepare to leave. And, tell Tonilia when you get back that the Thieves Guild has the allegience of the Khajit Caravans."

Silver smiled as she answered, "No problem. See you by nightfall."

She entered the Silver-Blood Inn without further incident and quickly located Endon sitting by the fire alone. Noone else was around but the clerk. Silver approached Endon and sat down. "So, you're Endon?"

"Yes, that's me." the Redguard replied. "I've been wondering when the Thieves Guild would reply, but I anticipated you at a later date. Nevertheless, you're here now and we can do business."

"That's my understanding."

Endon continued. "Back in the old days, my father was a very influential person here in Markarth. But he also was a friend to the Guild. He died at about the same time the Guild began experiencing bad fortune.  
I can offer those services again, if you're willing to help me out with something."

"And that would be?"

"A very valuable silver mold was stolen from me a few days ago. I want it back, and I don't know who stole it but I can tell you that they were headed to Windhelm. A friend of mine who is good at tracking told  
me as much. Now, I know what you're undoubtedly thinking, and that mold took many years to craft. It's creater is dead now, and it can't be done exactly right if someone else does the work instead."

"I understand. To Windhelm, then."

At Windhelm, Silver found that the guards were abuzz and the citizens were agitated. After asking around, she discovered that a girl named Nilsine Shatter-Shield had been murdered by a man that everyone kept  
calling "the Butcher". Silver felt badly for the Shatter-Shields, but she had a job to do and she had already spent enough time not doing it already. She walked yp to the Candlehearth Hall, were her greatest loss in  
her career had occured. Now she was going to do better for herself and bring the Guild's influence in Windhelm up.

Silver spotted Torsten Cruel-Sea and moved over to him, then said, "Delvin Mallory tells me you have a job for me."

The man looked at her without surprise, then replied, "Yes. My daughter Fjoltly... She was murdered a few months ago. Left her laying in a pool of her own blood."

"The Butcher?"

"No, it wasn't the Butcher. I assume that they were after her valuables... She always did wear too much jewelry in public. The Butcher never takes valuables from his, or her victims."

"Well whoever it was, I can assure you that it was noone from the Guild."

Torsten held up his hand as he said, "No need to explain, I'm well aware of your methods. You never kill anyone if you can help it. It took me weeks, but I finally tracked down the killer. A bloody Altmer, no  
less."

"What happenned to him?"

"Let's just say that I'm a firm believer in an eye for an eye and leave it at that." he said angrilly. "He fancied himself a thief in a new Guild around here. I managed to get that much out of him before.. you  
know."

"So what exactly do you want me to do?"

"Well, like I told Delvin, I think we can help each other. You recover what I'm looking for and take out a rival Guild to boot."

"I assume that I'm looking for something that they took from your daughter."

"Exactly. One of the pieces stolen from her was a silver locket, a Cruel-Sea family heirloom. I want you to get it back."

Silver smiled as she said, "You have a deal. Where do I start?"

"The only name that I have is Niranye. Has a house here in Windhelm. That's were you start looking."

And so Silver left the Candlehearth Hall for the Marketplace. She immediately found a Dunmer woman at her stall that was not as bothered by the recent Butcher attack. So Silver went up to her.

"Yes, can I help you with something?" she asked.

"Terrible about the Shatter-Shields, isn't it?" Silver decided to build this up, for dramatic effect.

Niranye looked at her as if slightly annoyed that someone would waste her time like this, but replied, "Yes, it is. They say that Nilsine's mother is suicidal-"

"I'm here about someone else who was murdered recently: Fjoltly Cruel-Sea."

Niranye assumed a maddeningly ignorant countanance. "Fjoltly.. Fjoltly.. Where have I heard that name before? Oh of course. Poor girl, such a beautiful young thing. A tragedy to be certain."

Silver lowered her voice dangerously, so noone else would hear her threaten her. "Drop the act. I know that you were involved in her death."

Niranye flared up, but also kept her voice down. "How dare you? You're accusing me of such a.. a.. heinous act? I should have you arrested for even suggesting such a thing. Who do you think you are?"

Silver remained calm as she growled, "Only the most dangerous thief in Skyrim. You may be a good thief, but you're a horrible liar. Now, tell me about the New Guild, or-"

"Now, just a moment." Niranye panicked. So she had heard of her. "Let's talk about this like two rational people."

"Fine. Start talking."

"Look," her voice dropped even lower now. "I had no choice. They're crazy. I could be killed."

"Who's crazy?"

"A guild of Altmer thieves. They call themselves the Summerset Shadows. Thier leader, Linwe, is the worst of the lot. He steals from the dead."

"You mean he murders his marks."

"No. Linwe digs up the corpses from the Hall of the Dead. He even stole that locket from the poor murdered girl, or what was left of her."

"And how did you get involved?"

"I used to fence for the Thieves Guild in Skyrim a long time ago. When Linwe moved into the area, he told me that if I didn't fence for him, he'd kill me."

Silver decided to reserve judgement on her for now. She decided to continue intimidating as she demanded, "Where is Linwe's base?"

"If I tell you, you need to promise not to kill me." Niranye begged. Silver sighed, annoyed, so Niranye continued. "I could prove to be quite an asset to the Thieves Guild. I'm the best fence in all Skyrim."

"Look, I'm not going to kill you. We don't kill to get our way."

Niranye sighed in relief as she said, "Linnwe is holed up in Uttering Hills Cave. He and his Guild just returned from a job in Markarth, so they're all together. Be careful."

Silver did a double take. "Did you just say they returned from Markarth?"

"Yes."

Silver chuckled as she said to herself, "Son of a-"

"Once you are finished with Linwe," Niranye interrupted, "Come back anytime and I'll make good on my side of the bargain."

Silver made her way to the location Niranye had marked on her map. She didn't exactly trust the Dunmer to be entirely trustworthy, but she had told her that she could expect a fight. That in itself told Silver  
that she was not being double-crossed. She came to a cave, and found a trio of Dunmer Shadows. "Now ain't this a surprise." one said.

"This is for Fjoltly." Silver shouted as she threw a dagger into the man who had spoken.

"Hey!" another shouted. "Looks like we've got us a hero, boys! Kill her!" But Silver made short work of them and moved into the cave. Inside she found an iron mace lying on a cabinet, so she picked it up. It may come in handy.  
And it did. She continued to fight her way through Summerset Shadows until she came to a training ground. After promptly killing the Shadows there, she oppenned the door and snuck through. She slit the througts of several Shadows, then  
found that she had come to a dead end. She prepared to turn back, but she heard a sword unsheath from farther down the hallway, along with a man's voice. "Who's there?"

Linwe! Silver quickly climbed the wall with delicate agility as Linwe came to the dead end, then dropped down behind him. "Linwe, I presume."

The Dunmer whipped around and Silver caught his ebony sword on her mace. "Grr, who are you and what do you want, worm?"

Silver pushed Linwe back and said, "I want that locket you took from Fjoltly Cruel-Sea and that Silver mold you stole from Markarth. Give them to me, and I'll take you to Mercer alive."

"NOOO!" Linwe shouted as he lunged, and missed. "I won't let you take me to Mercer. You'll have to just kill me right here, save yourselves some time."

And so the dual began. Silver quickly scored hits on Linwe, nicking his arms and legs, and even managing to cut off some of the man's fingers. But just as she was about to deal the deathblow, he pulled out an Ultimate Healing  
potion and downed it, coming back for more. Silver found herself now on the defensive, but still managed to counterattack every now and then. She recoiled as Linwe stabbed her in the chest, but then immediately pulled out a throwing  
knife and hit Linwe in his neck. As the Dunmer lay gasping and choking on the floor, Silver took Linwe's sword and ran him through. The Thieves Guild was civilized, after all.

She searched the dead Dunmer and found the Cruel-Sea family locket and a key. She took it, and decided that it must go to a tribute chest. And sure enough, when she entered Linwe's room, she found an enormous chest, which unlocked  
with the key. Inside, she found Endon's Silver mold. As she turned to leave, she eyed Linwe's corpse.

"Torsten." Silver called out to the man in the marketplace. "I have your daughter's locket."

She gave it to him, he stared at it a moment, then he said, "It pains me to see this locket again... To be reminded of her. But I am glad that it is back where it belongs. Tell Delvin that if he needs my support in Windhelm, he's  
got it."

Silver smiled as she left.

In Markarth, she found Endon and told him that he had acquired the mold.

"You've more than proved that the Thieves Guild is back on tis feet here in Markarth and have easilly earned your reward. Tell Delvin that he can count on me to provide the influenec he needs with the right people here in Markarth."

"Pleasure doing business with you." Silver replied cheerfully.

"Are you alright?" Endon asked concerned. "Your robes seem to be stained with blood."

"Oh, I'm fine." Silver had to have Linwe's robes, now her robes, cleaned. "Thank you for asking. Good bye."


	8. Chapter 8, Kahjit will Follow

Chapter 8- Khajit will follow

Derkeethus turned out to be a very helpful person, and Valens was very happy that he was with them. The Argonian happilly offered to carry more than his fair share of the loads, something that Marcurio readilly took advantage of.  
But it didn't bother Derkeethus. He was a hard worker, a fighter, a good friend.

We decided to take the sceneic route to Rorikstead, and restock on supplies, maybe meet a few people. The small town was nice enough, but at the moment, noone was out and about. They were probably all in the tavern or something.  
But then Valens noticed someone in the field, sitting on the side of a hill observing the horizon. Valens instructed the others to go and find the people, not to get into any trouble, and to wait for me. Valens made his way over to the man, and  
cleared his througt, saying, "Excuse me, you there."

The man, who turned out to be very young, looked around until he spotted Valens, then stood up and replied, "Yes sir?"

"Do you know where evryone is? The town seems deserted. Are they in the tavern?"

"Mostly. Some folks decided to stay in thier homes today, take today off."

"Ah, I see."

The young man noticed Valens' Bonded Iron Armor, and said, "You're an adventuror, aren't you?"

"Aye."

"I wish I could be an adventuror." he said as he stared back into the horizon. "I dream about it all the time, I catch myself watching the Hold Guards training, learning thier techniques myself. But my father says that it's too dangerous.  
He doesn't want me to go."

"Well, he is right, you know. The world is a dangerous place, now more than ever."

The young man turned back to Valens. "I know that, but I still want to go. I'm sure that I can protect myself. My father loves me very much, too much. He's become increasingly overprotective of me lately."

"I, see." Valens said slowly.

"Say," the young man said eagerly, "maybe you could convince him. If you can do that, I'll join you, wereever you're going."

Valens looked the young man over for a moment, then replied, "I'll see what I can do."

The young man's face lit up. "Oh, thank you. If you convince him to let me go, I promise that I'll do a really good job."

"Good. What's your name, boy?"

"I'm Erik."

"'Erik'. I'm Valens. I'll be back in a moment."

"Excuse me," Valens asked a wood elf woman in the Inn. "I'm trying to find Mralki."

"He's up at the counter."

"Thanks." He walked to the counter, pulled out a few coins, then said to the old man, "Honningbrew Mead, please."

"You sure about that?" he answered. "The Honningbrew Meadery has recently been caught selling infested products. I'm affraid my stock has been recalled."

"Okay, do you have any Alto Wine?"

"Yes." He poured him a tankard, and recieved the coins.

"Now, to business." Valens continued after taking a swig. "I want to talk to you about your son, Erik."

The old man looked up. "Erik? What's happenned? Is he alright?"

"He wishes to join me and my associates in a life of adventure." Valens replied.

Mralki was not convinced, however. "But the world is a dangerous place. It's no place for a farmer, like any of us. Plus, he has no armor, and armor is very expensive."

"Hmm. I could help with that." Valens placed a bag of gold onto the counter, and smiled at the old man's astonished face.

"You'd give this much gold to help a complete stranger? Maybe you would be able to protect him for me. Thank you, my friend. Tell Erik I've changed my mind."

"Hey Erik," Valens called out. "Good news."

Erik ran over happilly to Valens. "You've changed my father's mind?" As he saw me nodd, he shouted, "Huzah! Thank you, Valens. I promise I won't let you down."

"Good. But you have to decide something."

"What's that?"

Valens held up his sack of gold and replied, "What kind of armor should I buy you?"

The trip to Whiterun was relatively uneventful, in part because of Erik's lack of armor, but also because they chose a route that was completely devoid of anything dangerous. But once they reached Whiterun, they came across a Kahjit  
Caravan directly outside of the gate. Valens thought that this was a lucky break, until he noticed that the Kahjit were arguing about something.

One Kahjit with white-ish fur stormed, "- just go after them myself, then!"

"No, Kahrjo!" responded a female Kahjit, who seemed to be the leader. "Just calm down and think-"

"I won't calm down! It's all I have left of home, Ahkari." Kahrjo raged. "I'm going after them right now."

"Is there a problem here?" Valens asked politely.

Ahkari sighed before telling him, "We've been robbed by a group of bandits not long ago."

"One of them had quick fingers." Kharjo added. "He stole my Moon Amulet."

Valens and Marcurio grinned at each other. This looked like an opportunity for a bargain. "What if we retreive this Moon Amulet for you?"

"If you did that, I'd be greatful. I'd be willing to sell you a piece of armor for half price, even."

"Right now?"

Erik was very pleased with his new Iron Armor, even if it was a little big for him. And indeed he did look like a fighter now. Everyone, now all able to fight, made their way toward the cave that Kharjo had indicated- White River Watch.  
Stationed outside the cave were three bandits, who began to attack as soon as they saw the adventurors. But, they never really stood a chance, as they were outnumbered to begin with. Marcurio froze one, and left him there. Derkeethus stabbed  
another man in the gut with his sword. Erik used his new sword to cut off the arm of his opponent, and then slit his throat. And then they ventured inside.

As they snuck around into the mouth of the cave, a voice, shaking with age, called out, "Eh? Who's there? Rodulph? That you?"

Valens decided to play along. After all, the man couldn't see them yet. "Yeah, it's me."

They turned the corner and found the old man sitting at a table. His eyes were pale and unfocused. He was blind. "Good. Boss was lookin' for you. Said he'd be up at the summit. You'd better not keep him waitng."

"Thanks, old man." Erik added, harshenning up his voice convincingly.

This made the old man go, "Hmph. A new recruit, Rodulph?"

"Yeah, he is." Valens responded quickly.

"I don't like 'im. Be sure he shapes up, will ya?"

They moved on, killing their way through the other bandits until they found an open area with cages. They decided to just stay out of there for now, because they heard voices and a growling animal.

"A wolf." Derkeethus whispered. "In that cage over there."

"Wow." Erik answered as he saw it. "I've never seen one so big before."

"-can't stand being here anymore." came the voice of one of the bandits. "If there's really so much loot here in Whiterun, why not just go somewhere else, like Riverwood. It's isolated enough."

"Hajvarr probably thinks that the risk of losing this income method is to great." replied his friend. "If I were in charge, I'd spread our forces out, get territory all over Whiterun Hold."

"Neither of us will ever be in charge, though." the first one pointed out. "Even after Hajvarr is dead."

At this point, Erik pointed something out to the others. There was a chain on the wall a few feet away that appeared to go to the cage that the wolf was in. So he snuck out and reached for it.

"So, why do we need a bloody wolf again?" the bandits continued. "I mean, it sounds like a good idea, but why do we still have it?"

"I have no idea. I told the Boss that we couldn't train it, that it's still too feral. But his reply was, 'uumph, uuh, try harder.' I swear, if he has us do one more impossible task, or teams us up with the Thieves Guild, or something else like that, I will-"

Clank! The cage door openned, and the wolf lept out, eagerly devouring the surprised bandits. As it turned to see the adventurors, it was burnt alive by a magic fireball.

"Good work, Erik." Valens congradulated the kid. "Now, to the summit."

They all stepped into the sunlight and drew their weapons. At exactly the same time, the bandits drew their weapons. There were two bandits, one battlemage, and the leader, Hajvarr, wearing Steel Plate Armor and wielding a Steel Waraxe.

"How did you get up here?" Hajvarr demanded. "Who are you?"

"We're here for the Moon Amulet that you stole." Valens told him firmly.

But Hajvarr wasn't willing to give it up that easilly. "It's mine now. I keep what I pay for, and I paid two years worth of spoils to have this Amulet stolen. It has Moon Sugar inside it, and when I open it, I will be able to start a trade. And I am not giving that up."

"Fine, we'll just kill you and take it, then." Marcurio spat, flinging sparks at the Battlemage. Erik and Derkeethus struggled with the other two bandits while Valens and Hajvarr fought each other. Marcurio's opponent was not really prepared for the onslaught that he was  
capable of, and thus his Ward couldn't hold out for very long against his enemy. With a loud shattering noise, the Ward broke and Marcurio shot an Ice Spike through the battlemage's neck, killing him. Erik fought off his opponent despite recieving a gash across his left shoulder. He  
paid the bandit back by decapitating him. Derkeethus easilly blocked his opponent's attacks, and sidestepped as the fight got too close to the edge of the cliff, sending his opponent screaming to the bottom. Valens dual was a bit tougher. Hajvarr was hammering him with his heavy blows  
with his Greatsword, forcing Valens to dodge, because if he tried to block, he'd have had his arm shattered and his skull chopped open. As Hajvarr swiped horizontally, Valens took the opportunity to deliver a stab to the man's abdomen, which made him back up toward Derkeethus,  
who slashed him over the back. Now Hajvarr stumbled toward Erik, who slashed him across the face. Now reeling from the impact of the blows, Hajvarr was an extremely easy target for Marcurio, who unleashed an unforgiving blast of flames, which shot him over the edge of the cliff.

"We managed to find it after an hour." Valens told the happy Kharjo. "For a while, we were affraid that it would have been vaporized like Hajvarr."

"You needn't have worried, my friend." Kharjo assured him. "Moon Amulets are made from metal that strengthens with heat."

The other Kahjit seemed to be a little bitter for some reason. so Ahkari came up to him and told him up front, "Kharjo, we want you to leave behind the profits you earned for that boy's armor, if you're really going with them."

This was news to the others. "You're coming with us?" Marcurio asked curiously.

Kharjo now seemed a little guilty as he told them, "Ah, yes. I was going to ask you if it was acceptable, since Dro'marash says that he can manage the others' protection. And yes, Ahkari, I will leave the profit."

Valens shook his hand and welcomed him into the group.

**Here's my new chapter, everyone. Finally, right? Anyway, here's the new chapter, so leave a review, please. I'll get a new chapter when I can.**


	9. Chapter 9- Forbidden Love

Three tankards of Honningbrew Mead and two of Black-Briar Mead, please." Valens asked the bartender in the Bannered Mare. "And we'd like some food, too. We're going up to join the Companions."

The bartender gave him a pained look as she gave them what he asked for. "You should be careful doing that. Maybe the news hasn't quite spread fast enough, but someone has been masquerading as Companions."

"What do you mean?" Marcurio asked, interested in more than just the bartender now.

A new voice came from the far corner of the Inn that answered, "I can tell you." They all turned to see a beautiful Redguard woman in Steel Plate Armor and with a Steel Greatsword slung on her back. "It was quite a messy scene."

"Tell us." Valens requested.

She made her way to them as she explained. "Only a week ago, a man named Phinius Frey, the leader of the resurgeant Silver Hand werewolf hunters, barged into Whiterun and began calling out the Harbinger. He began rambling on about how the Companions  
had broken into his base of operations and killed his entire force, including his own son, apparently. But the mysterious part of the story is that there were no Companions out that day. They were all in Jorvaskyyr. So that means that there is someone out there in Skyrim who  
is pretending to be Companions and either fighting evil independently of the real group, or are doing something more sinister."

"That's... troubling." Derkeethus admitted.

"Indeed." Valens agreed. "Where can we find this Phinius Frey?"

"You can't." replied the woman. "The Harbinger Shouted him to pieces. There's still a stain on the roof of the Drunken Huntsman has still not been entirely cleaned up."

"Ah, I wondered." Erik muttered to himself.

As Valens considered this troubling news, Marcurio went back into wooing mode. "So, who might you be, then?"

"I'm Uthgerd." she told him. "They call me the Unbroken because I have not been defeated in combat yet."

"Really? That's interesting." He then groped for another topic. "You seem to know a lot about the Companions."

This made Uthgerd's face assume a heated expression. "Oh, I know all about them. I tried to join them myself many months ago."

"Did you, now?" Kharjo asked conversationally. "And why is it you are not a Companion now, hm?"

"It wasn't my fault." she mumbled. "You see, they wanted to see if I could fight, so they pitted me against a very sick weakling of a lad. He didn't even have a beard yet. It was an accident. I didn't mean to kill him. Why would I have wanted that?"

The silence suddenly gained much weight. Valens told her tenderly, "Noone ever said that you did. But listen, there is a new Harbinger, now. Perhaps he can give you another chance."

"I..." she stuttered. She clearly hadn't considerd this. "I don't know."

"Come on." Erik urged. "Come with us. We're all trying to become Companions anyway."

Inside Jorvaskyyr, the Companions eyed the newcomers suspiciously. And for good reason. For all they knew, they could be the ones pretending to be them and going around killing people, or causing them to be killed. Nevertheless, a scrawny  
but hardenned Nord with brown hair and Companions' trademark Wolf Armor as well as a Skyforge Greatsword came up to them and asked gruffly, "Can I help you?"

"Yes." Marcurio took charge. "We would like to join up with you."

This almost seemed to confirm the Companions' worst fears. But the Nord simply answered, "Not for me to say. You should see the Harbinger. This way."

He led them down a staircase into what appeared to be the barracks, where everyone lived. They turned right and made their way to the door farthest back. The Nord openned it slowly as the sound of a conversation on the inside whisked through.

"-if we can even be in this situation right now." said a woman. "You have all your own responsibilities, and let's face it, Jorvaskyyr is not exactly the best place to-"

"Lydia," answered a man's voice. "this is a happy moment. We should charish it. If it happens in Jorvaskyyr, then so be it. Why shouldn't it?"

"Well, because it's not the best environment-" she stopped as they noticed the door open.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." apologized the Nord. The woman wore Steel Armor and a head of black hair, and the man wore Bonded Steel Armor and a head of golden hair and a matching beard.

"Yes, Vilkas?" the man asked patiently.

The awkwardness of the moment past, Vilkas declared, "There are six people here who say that they would like to join our ranks."

The man, obviously the Harbinger, stood and told his friend happilly, "Thank you, Vilkas. Would you like to stay here, Lydia?"

Lydia sighed as she stood and answered, "No, I think we're done here. I have things to do."

:"Very well, my love." the Harbinger watched silently as she left, then explained to the newcomers, "My wife. She was my housecarl, but I sold the Breezehome to come and live here.

"Now, you say that you wish to join up with the Companions? May I ask why?"

Derkeethus chuckled as he told him sarcastically, "Well, obviously to cover our tracks. We were only masqarading as you. Oh wait, on second thought, coming here would be foolish."

"Funny." the Harbinger chuckled along with him. "I have to be sure, though. Whoever these pretenders are, it would seem that they are trying to destroy the name of the Companions. Who are you?"

"My name is Valens." the adventurous leader declared. "I'm from the shores of Haafinger. This is Marcurio, from Riften. Derkeethus, from Darkwater Crossing. Kharjo from the Kahjit Caravans. Uthgerd the Unbroken, from-"

"I know you." the Harbinger told Uthgerd. "You're that Redguard woman who tried to join the Companions during the days of Kodlak White-Mane."

"Aye, that's me." she told him stiffly.

"Don't worry." he told her smilingly. "This time, to prove yourself, there will not likely be any accidents. I want you all to look into these false Companions and see if you can find a motive for their actions, an identity of one of the pretenders, anything to go on. If you do that, then you  
will prove to us that you are worthy to join us. Agreed?" They all agreed, so he turned to Vilkas and told him, "Would you take them outside and test them out?"

Silver was really outdoing herself! Vex and Tonillia had indeed managed to find the locations of just about all of the Stones of Barenziah, and Mercer decided to have her steal them. She was all over Skyrim accomplishing this task. She visitted Windhelm and broke into the Palace of the Kings.  
No small task, but it yielded two Stones for her efforts. On the way out of Windhelm, she found two more in Eastmarch. She travelled to Falkreath and found one at Pinewatch and another at Sunderstone Gorge. After dropping these off back at Riften, she found her way to Haafinger. She found  
one on the Dainty Sload, one in Reeking Cave, one in the Blue Palace in Solitude, and one in Proudspire Manor, a covetted piece of property in Solitude. After her trip to Solitude, she ventured to Rannveig's Fast, in Hjaalmarch, where she found yet another one. Next, she found her way to the Reach with  
the paths that Ri'saad showed her, and found one in Dead Crone Rock in the Reach, one in the Markarth Treasury House, one in Understone Keep. Thus laiden with her ill-gotten treasures once again, she dropped her prizes off and broke into the Black-Briar Lodge. This would have been extremly  
troublesome for the Guild were she caught, but luckilly, Maven didn't even seem to notice or care that the Stone was gone, so Silver broke into Mistveil Keep and stole the Stone there. Next, she travelled to Winterhold, where she found two, one in Hobsfall Cave, and one in Yngvild. There was a third  
Stone in Winterhold in the College, but she knew that she couldn't break in and steal it. So, she simply asked for it from the Archmage, who was remarkably kind enough to give it to her. After that, she dropped these off and gave her progress report to Vex.

"Now we're getting somewhere." she declared, uncharacteristically happy. "Now there are only five left. One of them is off the grid, though, so let's just focus on what Tonillia and I managed to dig up."

"Alright, then." Silver concurred.

"There are four in Whiterun Hold. One is in Fellglow Keep, an ancient ruin somewhere over here." she indicated on the map. "There is one in the Whiterun Hall of the Dead, one in Dragonsreach, and another in Jorvaskyyr. Be careful of that last one. The Companions are all on the lookout  
because of some bandit who tried to attack the Longhouse."

"Oh, I'll be careful." Silver told her slyly. "You know me."

Astrid was beside herself! "This wasn't supposed to happen. The fool was supposed to attack without a clear reason! And now-"

"Now everyone knows that there is someone out there pretending to be the Companions." Silas finished for her. "Not everyone is bright enough to put two and two together, Astrid."

"This assignment was not meant to end this way." she insisted.

"Oh?" Silas was annoyed now. "Then how was it supposed to end? You said that this assignment was supposed to be about acheiving recognition, and that's what has happenned. People now know that something's up. You just don't want to pay me!"

That hit the nail on the head. Astrid's face contorted as she tried to think of something else to say, but in the end, she pushed the coin purse toward him in angry defeat. "You have a new assignment." she added.

"Already?" Silas was surprised, but he pocketted his gold and said, "Let's hear it."

Valens stood in the sun beside Belathor's Shop, where the young Jon Battle-Born stood leaning against a post in animated but discrete conversation.

"Noone must know about it." Jon insisted. "Our families hate each other to no end, and if we're caught..."

"I promise you, Jon, if you're caught, I will do my best to null the situation." Valens promised. "You and Olfina will have the night alone."

Just then, Bruin, the local beggar, began ranting, "Hey, everyone! Listen up. Ya know why I like Black-Briar Mead better than Honningbrew Mead?" As he said this, a full blown arguement lit up in the streets that lasted twenty minutes.

Late that night, Jon Battle-Born and Olfina Grey-Mane met at the steps of Dragonsreach and embraced lovingly.

"What did you want to see me for?" Olfina asked her beloved.

"Not that I need a reason to want to see you," Jon told her, confused, "But I thought it was you who wanted to meet with me."

As they said these things, a shadowy figure leapt atop the nearest building, concealed by the darkness. At the same time, a Whiterun Guard appeared out of the shadows and leaned against the wall of a nearby alley, watching the scene unfold.

"No, I'm fairly certain that you arranged this meeting." Olfina insisted. "You wrote me a letter. I have it with me, here."

After he read it, Jon answered, "That does appear to be my handwriting, but you also wrote me a letter. I have it here."

"This is very strange." As Olfina contemplated this, the shadowy figure on the roof pulled out a bow and knocked an arrow to it, aimed to end the starcrossed lovers' lives.

The Guard in the alley muttered, "Come on, come on."

Suddenly, a voice from behind the Guard hissed, "You. You were in Windhelm."

He turned around and saw Silver, her expression hateful. Their eyes met and Silver drew her knife and shot it at him. But the man was just too quick for her and barely dodged it. This was the final straw for her. The clank of her knife hadn't faded, and had drawn the attention of the lovers and of  
the dark archer, before Silver cried out, "I MISSED?! I NEVER MISS!" She threw herself at the Guard and this time didn't miss. The two struggling figures fell into the open by the tree in the middle of the square. This made the shadowy archer retreat, because this was drawing the attention of the Six, the  
new Companions- Valens, Marcurio, Derkeethus, Erik, Kharjo and Uthgerd- who were waiting and watching in the shadows for something like this to happen. By the time the two unknown figures were seperated, the entire city had been aroused and came to see what had happenned. Olfina and Jon couldn't  
disappear into the crowd fast enough and were caught by their parents.

"Jon!" Olfrid yelled, "What are you doing? Why is she here?"

"Olfina, what is going on?!" Jorland Grey-Mane bellowed. "Were you meeting with him?"

"They were here," the guard announced, "because I told them to be here."

This drew the attention of the crowd, and so Valens told him, "Speak."

"Yes." the fuming Silver demanded. "You have a lot of answering to do, assassin."

"You ruined the build up." the man complained.

"Who are you?" Valens demanded. "Both of you, talk."

"I am from Riften. My name is Silver."

But the assassin grinned evilly as he pointed out, "'From Riften' meaning she's in the Thieves Guild."

"How did you-"

"Please." the man scoffed. "Why else would you have been after Hogan. He had a valuable relic of the Guild. It's mine now, though. You'll never find it."

"Is that why you stole the Stone of Barenziah in Dragonsreach?!" she stormed.

A fire lit in his face as he asked, "Ooooh, is it important too?"

Uthgerd had had enough. "No more games, assassin. Who are you?"

"Well, lady." he wooed ironically. "They don't make a lot of women as strong and lovely as you around here." He allowed the outrage of this statement to travel before saying, "My name is Silas. I am in the Dark Brotherhood, and I have been hired to kill Jon Battle-Born and Olfina  
Grey-Mane."

"By who?" Valens stepped in.

Noone expected him to answer this question. In fact, Marcurio and Kharjo were preparing to resort to more violent means of interrogation. But they needn't have bothered, for Silas told them, "By Olfrid Battle-Born and Avulstein Grey-Mane."

**This raises a lot of questions, doesn't it? What were the Harbinger and Lydia talking about? Why did Silas reveal who had hired him? Will the Six become Companions? Who was the mysterious archer? Will Silver ever find all the Stones of Barenziah? Where is the one that's unaccounted for? What about the others from Whiterun? Stay tuned to find out!**

**Please Rate and Review.**


	10. Chapter 10- The Breakup

I'll kill you, you slime!" Silver continued to scream as she lunged yet again at an annoyed Silas, who continued to casually dodge her futile attacks. "You stole my treasure!"

Silas laughed at the irony of this. "'Your treasure'? I stole it fair and square. What makes it so different who steals it? Isn't that your way of life?"

"I'm the most reknowned thief in all of Skyrim!" Silver bellowed as she stood from where she had fallen. "Noone steals from me. Noone!"

"So, I'm guessing that you are now one of thousands who hate me?"

"There is no accurate description in any language to tell you how much I hate you." she growled.

Silas burst out laughing in mock intimidation. "Ooo-hoo-hoo-hoo. Well, I've never heard that before, but listen, it doesn't matter how much you hate me. Like it or not, we both have a common goal."

"What common goal? The Stones? If you don't give me the one you stole from Dragonsreach-"

"No, no, no." Silas waved his hand impatiently. "Not the Stones, even more basic than that. We need to find a way to break out of here, and for now, we need to work together to do that. After we're out of Whiterun, then we can deal with the business of the Stones. Deal?"

Silver mulled this over. On one hand, she wanted more than anything to just strangle him right where he stood. On the other hand, she did need to get out of the prison. On one hand, she knew where the secret passage to escape was, but on the other, she had to be sure that  
noone could see the passage when it was being used. Perhaps the assassin had an escape plan already. She'd give it a chance, then do what she had to to get the Stones back, no matter what.

"Okay, fine." she groaned. "So what's the plan?"

Silas grinned. "Well, first things first. We can't go on a journey without supplies. So we need to get our gear."

The guard stationed there laughed at this absurd statement. "Oh, yeah? And hiw do you expect to do that, assassin? Walk through the door?"

Just then, someone else entered the dungeon. It was the mage Marcurio, and he was not happy. He gazed at Silas with evil intentions in his eyes. He turned to the guards and told them, "Guard the door, in case they try to escape."

Confused, they did so and left the malevolent mage to the prisoners. "Very wise, sending them to guard the door." Silas complimented. "Just a precaution, right? But who ever said that we were trying to escape through the door?"

"Last I checked, the door was the only way out of here." Marcurio snapped.

Silver couldn't resist telling him, "Well then, you'd better check again."

"I don't need to. You won't be using it, wherever it is."

"Ha!" Silas roared. "And who's going to stop us, little man? You?"

"My skills are unmatched." he declared. "I am one of the most powerful mages in Skyrim."

"But not, obviously, the oldest or wisest." Silas added. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be here at all."

This made him angry. He moved closer to the bars and breathed through his teeth, "I'm here because you were disrespectful toward Uthgerd."

"Oh no, you misunderstood. I was complimenting her, Uthgerd, was it?"

"Well, your 'compliments' end now, assassin." he pointed out before summoning a spectral dog into the cell. Unprepared for this, Silas was knocked to the ground by the weight of the magic beast and barely held it at bay several inches in front of his face. Silver quickly  
and reluctantly beat the beast in the ribs enough to grab its attention and make a loud rucous. By now, the guards had noticed what was going on and tried to intervene. But instead, Silas grabbed the stunned spectral dog by the scruff of the neck and hurled it through the bars at Marcurio  
and the guards, knocking them out.

"My thanks." Silas told Silver.

"Don't mention it." she grumbled as she pulled out a lock pick from her pocket. "Seriously, don't, or I'll hunt you down and-"

"Kill me, yes." Silas interrupted as she unlocked the cell door.

Valens knew something wasn't right even before Marcurio disappeared. He had been silent and glancing toward Dragonsreach every thirty seconds for the last several hours. The Six had enough to worry about as it was. The outrage of the Battle-Born/Grey-Mane Scandal  
was almost causing riots in the streets. The Jarl himself was involved now, and he was desperately trying to convince the crowds that the assassin was lying about who hired him, a sentiment backed up by Olfrid Battle-Born and Jorland Grey-Mane. The assassin was obviously a master  
of disguise, so he was also a suspect in the masqarading of the Companions, and as such, the Harbinger had been sent for to interrogate the assassin. But now that Marcurio was gone, Valens seriously hoped he was mistaken on where he was and why, because too much was at stake  
here.

Unfortunately, as they entered the Dragonsreach dungeon, there lay Marcurio and two guards, unconscious. Strangely enough, the confiscated items were missing and the cell was still locked, but the prisoners had vanished.

"What happenned." asked the Harbinger when he arrived and saw the scene.

"We don't know." Valens stormed. "We were waiting until one of them came to to tell us."

Soon enough, one of the guards woke up from his forced slumber. "Your friend, the mage... he tried to murder the prisoners." he explained.

"Why?" the Harbinger asked the younger man.

"He- he said something about... disrespect... to the woman." he indicated Uthgerd.

By now, Marcurio was awake. "Uuuh... WHERE ARE THEY?!"

"They're gone, thanks to you." Kharjo told him angrilly. "They broke out, stole the keys and their belongings and left. They locked their cell back up."

Marcurio was beside himself now. "We must find them. We all need to spread out and look all over the city-"

"First, we need to get something straight." Valens confronted him. "Why did you try to kill them, Marcurio?"

He was caught. "What do you-"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

Marcurio growled, then said slowly, "He was hitting on Uthgerd. I was trying to protect her dignity-"

Uthgerd was annoyed by this. "My dignity was not damaged by what he did. What you did was unnecessary."

"Besides," Valens added, "you're not Uthgerd's type. You're just pathetic, letting two very dangerous criminals escape because of a woman."

Marcurio exploded, "Oh, and you ARE her type?! I am not as pathetic as you say I am! I am the most powerful mage in Skyrim! You are nothing compared to me, Valens. Nothing!"

The Harbinger stepped in now. "Marcurio, you will need to answer for this. Even if this was an accident that they escaped, you tried to murder those criminals. What do you intend to do?"

He thought this over, then said, "I'm leaving. Forget becoming a Companion. Without the assassin, we won't become new members anyway. I'm going to Winterhold." And with that, he left without another word and without looking back.

Uthgerd rounded on Valens now. "Excellently handled, Valens."

"What?"

"'Not my type'? What was that about?"

"Nothing, I just meant- " he jabbered awkwardly. "Look, Marcurio is a flirtateous guy and he is extremly conceited. He's nobody's type."

She threw up her arms and said, "Whatever. So, now what? If Marcurio's right, then there's nothing for us here."

All this time, the Harbinger watched on, refusing to step in on the issue and allowing the fallout to continue.

"You don't know that there's nothing left here." Valens exclaimed. "The mission was to discover who it was that did this, not take them down. Right?" he asked the Harbinger, who said nothing. A sense of desperation settled in as Valens asked again, "Right?"

Erik now spoke up. "We can still do noble things and not be Companions. We just need to find a cause."

"That's right." Uthgerd agreed. "Like the Stormcloak Rebellion. Skyrim has every right to be a free and independent nation. All the Empire has done is bend to the will of the Thalmor and restrict the lives of the Nords. We should go to Windhelm and join up."

But Derkeethus had other thoughts. "I'm not so sure, Uthgerd. Ulfric Stormcloak fights for the freedom of the Nord people of Skyrim, but not for all of our kinds. Not for the Argonians. Not for the Kahjit. The Stormcloaks hold racial prejudices and treat those of other  
races as just as much the enemy as the Thalmor."

"Yes." agreed Kharjo. "I have passed Windhelm many times in my travels, and there are always Dunmer travelling away. They talk of segregation and mistreatmentinside the walls. The Empire needs Skyrim, and Skyrim needs the Empire. They will not exist independantly  
for long."

In the end, Uthgerd and Erik decided to go and join up with the Stormcloaks anyway. In retaliation, Derkeethus and Kharjo decided to join the Legion. As they left, a saddenned Valens turned to the Harbinger and asked quietly, "Why didn't you tell them?"

"Because they are meant to be on seperate paths now." he explained. "Whatever events will occur because of what happenned here will possibly change history."

Silver poked her head through the hole in the tunnel and took in the young sunlight of the morning. Her companion, the assassin Silas, stayed behind her and hadn't said a single word since they broke out, which was good, because Silver couldn't think of anything mean-spirited  
or sarcastic to say yet. But the time had come for action. "So, we made it."

"So it would seem." Silas finally answered.

She didn't like the way he said that and felt discretely for one of her daggers. "Now there's only one last piece of unfinished business."

"Oh, yes. The Stones." WHACK! The world around Silver went red and her head felt like it had been broken open. Her feet fell from under her and she hit the ground hard. The world went black and she knew no more.

Silas grunted as he dropped the stick he had used to knock Silver out. "Now, the Stones." he told the unconscious woman. "And I'll just take any gold you have with you. No, that would hardly be sporting. How much do you need to get yourself back to Riften? Fifty Septims?"  
As he cleaned out her satchel, he added knowing that noone was listenning, "You're good, thief, but not any better than me. You're quite beautiful, too. Pity."

"So, how did Silas become Thane of Markarth?" Max asked the lovely Aurora conversationally. They were getting to know each other fairly well, but it was hard to tell if she was genuinely interested in him or not.

"He became very well known in the Hold for tracking down and executing large groups of Foresworn in creative ways." she answered. "Like one time, he used nothing but a broken mead bottle and a-"

She stopped as Astrid came over to them and whispered to Max, "I need your help with something."

That didn't sound good, but Max couldn't refuse, no matter how much he wanted to. "What's the matter?"

"It's.. Cicero." she replied anxiously. "Ever since he arrived here, his behavior has been... Well, erratic would be an understatement. I do believe he is truely mad."

"What else is new?" Max asked sarcastically.

"It's more than that." she added. "He's taken to locking himself inside the Night Mother's chambers and talking, to someone, in hushed but frantic tones. Who is he speaking to? What are they planning? I fear the worst."

"Really?" Max didn't see where this was going. "Maybe he's just insane."

"I don't know." Astrid said paranoid. "As the Night Mother's Keeper, he may believe he is entitled to rule this Sanctuary. He has been siting our independence as a need to revert back to the old ways. He'll claim we're undisciplined, enruly, heretical, even. Ironically, the Night Mother  
may be just as much a victim here. A queen in a fool's twisted game of chess. Or perhaps an instrument of someone even darker than the fool. I want you to find out if he's discussing his plans with a contact of Silas'. They may be plotting against me."

Max really didn't want to mess with Cicero, but he also didn't want to displease Astrid. So he asked her more resolutley than he felt, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to get in on one of those meetings. Go into the Night Mother's chambers and hide. Here's the key to the coffin."

"Wait. You want me to hide...inside the Night Mother's coffin?"

Max pushed his way hesitantly into the coffin. For some reason, he felt welcomed, even though he believed with every ounce of rational thought that he was being disrespectful, intrusive. He shut the coffin door and waited, shivers travelling up and down his spine as he shared the space with  
the slimey, decomposed corpse. After a short while, Cicero entered the room humming to himself. The sound of a key turning reached Max's ears, then Cicero, his voice now very close to the coffin asked, "Are we alone? Yes.. Hm, hm, hm, yes...Alone. Sweet solitude. Noone will hear us, disturb us.  
Everything is going as planned. The others... I've spoken to them, and they're coming around, I know it. The wizard, Festus Krex... perhaps even the Argonian and the un-child... What about you? Have you... have you spoken to anyone?...No...No, of course not." he began to rage. "I do the talking, the  
stalking, the seeing and the saying. And what do you do, hm? Nothing!... Not...Not that I'm angry... No, never. Cicero understands... Heh, Cicero... always understands... and obeys. You will talk when you're ready, won't you? Won't you? Sweet Night Mother."

At this moment, a cold chill broke down Max's spine. This one had nothing to do with the slimey chemicals that were used to embalm the Night Mother. But it did correlate with the dizziness that he suddenly felt. He also began to feel inexplicably sorry for Cicero. He had devoted his entire  
life to this cause, whatever it was, and he was constantly disappointed. And just as Max felt these new feelings, a cold, rattling voice eminated from the Night Mother's corpse, "Poor Cicero... Dear Cicero... Such a humble servant... But he will never hear my voice, for he is not the Listenner."

Severly shaken, Max heard Cicero continue, "Oh, but how can I defend you? How can I exert your will if you will not speak...TO ANYONE?!"

"Oh, but I will speak." came the nightmarish voice again. "I will speak to you... For you are the one... Yes, you... You, who shares my iron tomb... You who warms my ancient bones... I give you this task... Go to Volunruud... Speak with Amaund Moitierre..."

This voice was somehow soothing, though it was at the same time absolutley the most terrifying thing he had ever heard in his entire life. He felt obligated to do whatever the voice commanded, though not entirely out of fear. Almost out of love, love for his own mother. Meanwhile, on the  
outside of the coffin, Cicero snivelled on, "Poor Cicero has failed you... Poor Cicero is sorry, sweet Mother... I've tried so very hard, but I just can't find the Listenner!"

"Tell Cicero the time has come..." the voice, the Night Mother commanded. "Tell him the words he's been waiting to hear, all these years... 'Darkness rises when silence dies..."

"Yes, Night Mother." Max accidentally said aloud.

"What?!" Cicero ripped open the coffin, which he only just then discovered was unlocked, and screamed, "What treachery!" He grabbed Max by the collar and threw him to the ground. "Defiler! Debaser and defiler! You have desecrated the sanctity of the Night Mother's coffin!  
EXPLAIN YOURSELF! Speak worm!"

"Cicero, please, calm down." Max begged him. "I have good news. The Night Mother just spoke to me."

Cicero clearly hadn't expected this. He gaped for a moment and then stuttered, "She... spoke.. to you?... More trickery." he decided as he advanced toward the cowering young assassin. "More treachery and deceit. YOU LIE!" He picked Max up by the throat and ranted, "The Night Mother  
speaks only to the Listenner! And there is-" Pow! "-no-" Pow! "Listenner!" He punched Max in the gut twice, thenthrew him to the ground on the other side of the room, sending the contents of a nearby table flying off.

Thinking quickly, Max weezed, "She gave me a message." Cicero made no indication that he had heard but to allow his victim to live a few seconds longer, so Max stuttered, "Um, uh, Silence rises as darkness dies."

This made nothing any better. "What nonsense is this?" Cicero bellowed.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry. I got it wrong." Max kicked himself. "'Darkness rises as silence dies.' That's what it was."

Cicero's arms dropped lamely to his sides. "She... she said that? She said those words? To you? YOU?"

"Um, yes." Max said hopefully.

Cicero hadn't really heard him. "But those are the words. The Binding Words. Written in the Speaking tombs. The words so I would know. The Night Mother's only way of speaking to sweet Cicero." He sniffed this last part, making Max want to go over and comfort the jester, but then he  
piped up and began dancing and laughing, "Then... It's true. Our Lady is back! Ha, ha! She has chosen a Listenner! Ha, ha, ha! She has chosen YOU! Ah, ha, ha, ha,ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! All hail the Listenner!" He curtesied subserviantly.

**Things just got worse, didn't they? Were these guys even that good friends to begin with? What's going to happen after this? Who do you want to win this rivalry between Silas and Silver? Where is all of this going? Stay tuned and find out.**

**Please rate and review. More will come soon.**


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